Never Surrender
by quantumparadigm
Summary: Everything catches up, even after twelve years of running. When an unexpected encounter with the team from Atlantis frees her from the Wraith, Eva Vasir learns there's more to life than living in fear. But can she learn to love? Snapshots in 1,000-word vignettes. Ronon/OC, also Sheppard/Weir.
1. Runner

**Long****-****winded****A****/****N****:  
**Hey everyone! This (quite shockingly, perhaps) is not a Mass Effect related story. Rather, I've recently fallen in love with the characters of Stargate: Atlantis and a while ago, the premise for this story jumped into my head, burrowed deep in the recesses of my subconscious and refused to relinquish its hold until the story was written.

I'll be following mostly my own story arc instead of rehashing what we've all seen in the show, but I will, occasionally, include excerpts from the episodes. This story starts after the events of 3:06 "Progeny" but before 3:07 "Common Ground."

Special thanks to Kassandra Black who reads everything I write before it comes anywhere near ffnet these days :)

A short note about the style this story will be written in: 1,000-word vignettes following Eva Vasir's journeys with the people of Atlantis.

Note to my 'Memories' readers: I'm not abandoning that story, and this one shouldn't affect the update schedule of the other. The chapters here are short and sweet vignettes (whereas Kaidan likes to do his Kaidaning thing that's so adorably frustrating).

Disclaimer: I don't own SG:A or any of its wonderful characters.

Enjoy! -quantumparadigm

-E-

**Never ****Surrender**

_The tracking device is what makes a Runner. It is implanted in the back, near the second thoracic vertebrae, to prevent the victim from reaching and removing it himself. With the device, the Wraith are seemingly able to locate a Runner anywhere in the Pegasus Galaxy._

-E-

Eva Vasir stepped out of the ring of the ancestors and assessed the scorched landscape in front of her, a small frown creasing her brow. The Wraith had clearly visited this planet within the past few years - and burned it to the ground. That meant there wouldn't be people, which meant that for the next day or so, she was safe.

As safe as Runner could ever be. Which, if she was honest with herself, wasn't very. But on an unpopulated planet, all she had to worry about were the Wraith hunting her instead of angry villagers with shotguns and torches. As soon as most people found out what she was, they turned a cold shoulder. And that was considered polite. She could handle the Wraith.

She quickly darted away from the ancestral ring, and stole a glance at the sky, marking the position of the sun. Come nightfall, she wanted to be at least 10 miles out. Preferably with a canyon or a cliff between her and the ancestral ring. Or better yet, a mountain. The land appeared to be hilly, covered with half-dead trees that had somehow managed to survive the razing imposed by the Wraith, struggling to hold onto the thin string of life left to them, but she didn't see a mountain on the horizon - in any direction. She'd settle for a canyon. Though if worse came to worst, she could always climb a tree.

This might be a good place to hole up for a few days, maybe set up a sort of outpost. Provided she found the right location, she could even start a cache. She had a few on other planets, but had been forced to abandon them in recent months. Abandoned planets made the best hiding places, especially abandoned planets with little to no oddities. Like the last one she'd attempted to seek haven on. The potency of the sun had forced her to flee when the Wraith had eventually arrived in force.

That was a damn shame. She'd found a cave that had provided excellent shelter from the rays during the daytime, and the vegetation had been plentiful.

About 5 miles from the ancestral ring she came across the remnants of a village. Burnt tent husks littered the ground, mixed in with broken pottery and old clothes. Eva stepped over the remnants of a wooden fence and into the village proper. She scrunched her nose as the smell of stale, burnt wood assaulted her senses. She moved through the settlement, searching for a suitable place to hole up in the night.

The sun was already beginning to set, which surprised her. The cycles on this planet must be fairly rapid considering it had seemingly been late afternoon the last time she'd checked the position of the sun. She thought she'd have at least another hour to put more distance between herself and the ring. But since that wasn't the case, it was better to find a place to hunker down now, in a place that offered shelter, somewhere where she could set a fire and actually eat _cooked_ food.

Too bad the food was packaged dry food intended to last a long time, meant for military use. The colony that had given her the supply had only been too happy to see her go.

Once she'd devoured her small meal, she stamped out the fire. The warmth was certainly welcome, but she didn't want to alert anyone who might visit this forsaken planet of her presence. It may be abandoned by a local population, but that didn't mean that bandits and raiders wouldn't use this place as base of operations. Rather, it increased the chances that any humans she encountered would be more than willing to kill her for the clothes on her back.

And free her from the Wraith. Sometimes, she thought about the sweet release death would provide. No more running. No more waiting. Just... finality, and peace. She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. The idea of _freedom_ was intoxicating.

But then the Wraith would only choose a new target, someone else to entertain them for their twisted pleasures. Training, target practice, study. Someone else to endure the pain and hardship she'd suffered for the past 12 years. Someone who might not be as good as her, which would only lead to more victims of this sick game where the Wraith cheated as they hunted her down mercilessly, day after day, until the weeks blurred into months, which in turn faded into years. Now over a decade later, the only thought that kept her moving and not simply _succumbing_ was that by continuing to evade them, she staved off the creation of other Runners.

Whether or not it was true didn't matter in the end because in the end everyone hunted by the Wraith died. The parties that hunted her had gradually grown larger over the years, as if they'd come to _expect_ her to fight - and pressed all the harder to see her fail.

She would never give them the satisfaction. If she was going to die, she would do it on a Wraith hive and take out the whole ship full of bastards with her.

She tossed on the ground, hugging her arms near the embers of the campfire. Fat chance of ever cornering the Wraith on their own ship while she still had the _device_ in her spine. Though one day... she could dream. Futile as it may be, pointless as it most certainly was, because she'd already learned to accept the fate dealt to her.

She was a Runner.

Nothing was going to change that. Certainly not wishes and fanciful musings. She forced the thoughts out of her mind. Wishing for her life to be different wouldn't make her situation any better, nor would it change the fact that she was what she was.

It was time to focus on reality. She couldn't afford to do otherwise.


	2. Blood

_To __my __friends __at __Atlantis__. __I __wish __there __was __something __more __I __could __say __for __my __actions__. __It __was __never __my __intention __for __things __to __turn __out __the __way __they __did__, __but __we __can__'__t __always __force __situations __to __align __with __our __desires__. __There__'__s __something __I __want __to __tell __all __of __you__ - _

-E-

She froze in her tracks, every muscle in her body straining to sense what had gotten her undivided attention. Her ears perked as she registered the monotone dialing process from the ring of the ancestors.

Her body jumped into action, responding to the reflexes honed from a decade plus spent evading the life-sucking monsters. She double-backed, silently twisting around the trees. Better to ambush the Wraith than let them ambush her. Maybe take one prisoner, force him to disable the tracking device on her. Her dark green eyes honed in on the blue wormhole, and she flipped the switch on her gun to 'kill.' She'd stun the last one if possible. If she couldn't, didn't matter. Then she'd make a beeline for the ring, dial out and get the hell off this rock.

What she didn't expect was for a group of four humans to walk through. Two men in military gear, while the other man and woman wore clothes clearly designed to allow fighting without encumberance. The dark-haired man in uniform was clearly in charge. His words didn't carry, but the tone of his voice did.

The dreadlocked man not in uniform was eyeing the perimeter with a practiced precision. Not military, but definitely a warrior or mercenary of some sort. And smart, especially compared to the other uniform bent fussing over a gadget.

She swept her blond locks behind her ear and holstered her gun.

Runners lived a solitary life of necessity. Too many had died because she'd stopped through a village, thinking a few hours wouldn't matter as she bartered for clothes and food. For a brief moment, she felt a pang of regret, but stomped on it. It'd be nice to talk to someone, but they didn't need the one thing she was guaranteed to bring them: death.

She'd gone just over half a mile when she heard shouts and gunfire. Eva stopped dead in her tracks, breath slowing, heartbeat escalating as she felt the familiar surge of adrenaline kick through her system.

Without thinking she turned around and ran back the way she'd come. She jumped over a log in her way and hit the ground hard with a practiced bend of the knees to absorb the shock. Two Wraith hunters suddenly appeared in front of her. She blasted the first one in the chest with her particle magnum and tucked into a roll, coming up just as the second hunter raised its stun gun and honed in on her position. She shot him in the face and he crumpled to the ground.

No mercy.

She approached the first one and ripped the band off his arm. It showed 5 more Wraith in the vicinity. Perhaps they'd made the connection that it was _her_ they were tracking. She knew for a fact that there weren't very many Runners. If only one walked through the ring, it'd be easy to figure out which one it was.

With a grim expression she continued running towards the ancestral ring. The supple material of her boots and the years of practice of stealth meant she barely made a noise as she ran through the woods, avoiding twigs and dead leaves with practiced fluidity. According to the Wraith device, another hunter was just ahead. She crouched behind a tree and peered around it.

One of the humans had fallen and was bleeding all over the ground. He flailed his limbs, grasping at something in his vest while he shouted, 'Sheppard!' as the hunter bore down on him. It stretched out its feeding hand and the man flattened against the ground as if he could burrow to safety, raising his hand over his head.

Eva charged out from cover. Surprise was on her side and she pushed him to the ground and quickly rolled away. She spun and kicked him in the head, knocking him back to the ground before he had a chance to rise. He attempted to stand again and she raised her gun and blew a smoking crater in his chest. The Wraith fell back to the ground, surprise etched on his face as he died.

"Who the hell are you?" the human demanded behind her.

She didn't answer, scanning the area immediately around them. He repeated his demand, and she raised a finger to silence him, but he kept talking. Once she was confident that no Wraith were nearby, her conclusion supported by the Wraith device, she spun around to look at the man below her. How he'd been separated from the others didn't matter. She'd have to find them later.

"Are you going to tell me who you are, yet? Or better yet, help me up? Kind of bleeding all over the place, if you haven't noticed. Are you Satedan? Where'd you get that gun? -"

"Do you ever stop talking?" she asked, her green eyes piercing his blue ones. Now that she got a closer look at him, he didn't really _seem_ to be military. He wore the uniform, but his eyes lacked the hardness of someone practiced at killing sapient beings, despite the gun resting on the ground a few feet away.

"Well excuse me for wanting to know the name of the person who came out of nowhere on a planet that's supposed to be abandoned."

"Eva." He looked at her in surprise. "Can you walk?"

His face paled at the prospect. She knelt next to him and examined his leg. Her brow knitted in consternation. He'd fallen on a very sharp rock, which was still lodged in the underside of his thigh. Now she knew why he was still sitting there.

"This is going to hurt." She removed one of her sleeves from her arms and took off her belt. Without waiting to warn him, she yanked his leg off the rock and hot blood flowed over her hands.

"A little warning would have been nice!" he shouted as she wrapped her sleeve around his leg and tied it off with her belt. "Is that sanitary? That doesn't appear to be sanitary. In my bag I have a kit that we can use..." He fell silent as she glared at him.

"There's no time. The Wraith will be back. Lean against my shoulder."

"Why? What are you going to do? I'm not feeling so well, maybe we should just stay here..."

Eva grabbed him and slung him over her shoulder. He shouted again and she resisted the urge to smack him. Then he fell limp.

Terrific.

* * *

**A****/****N****:** Thank you to everyone for all the story alerts! It was a pleasant surprise, especially since I wasn't really expecting anything after breaking out of my ME comfort zone. :) And thank you for the reviews, too! Props to anyone who figures out who Eva just rescued ;)

**MaxPayne****51**: Thank you! Definitely trying some new things with this story, and I'm glad they're working so far!

Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! :)


	3. Hope

_I don't regret anything._

-E-

Ever since Mckay had woken up, he'd been nothing short of miserable. He fussed and whined and _demanded_.

Which is why she currently found herself standing outside in the rain. The cold water seeped through the layers of her sleeveless shirt, and the arm currently without protection prickled with goosebumps. Sooner rather than later, she'd be forced to go back inside and suffer his miserable company. But at least he'd been one thing that others so rarely had: kind. Despite his intolerable complaining, he'd yet to try and kill her.

As if on cue, he shouted from the interior of the cave. "Are you still out there?"

She suppressed a groan. Hopefully now he'd be more accommodating and less irritating. With a last quick glance of the land, she turned back inside the cave. It was a miracle she'd even found it in the first place. The overlapping rocks at the entrance meant they could maintain a small fire for warmth and light. Something Mckay had only been to happy about.

"Did you see my friends?" he asked her as soon as she rounded the corner.

"No."

He licked his lips. "Are you going to... hurt me?"

She eyed him as he sat with his back against the wall, as close to the fire as he could get. "No."

"Kind of terse," he grumbled. "Figures, I finally get my shot at being an intergalactic Kirk and the lady hardly speaks a word."

She cocked her head as he continued rambling. His mutters quickly got heated as she continued to remain silent. She sat down opposite him from the fire, and his eyes followed her to the ground. "Will they come looking for you?"

"Yes, but it would be easier if I knew where we are."

"About an hours walk from the ring of the ancestors. I cannot remain with you."

"Why not? I'd prefer to have company than be alone. Besides, the Wraith were killed, we just need to get to the gate and dial out before more return, and I'm certain..."

She forestalled him by raising her hand. "Are you familiar with the term 'Runner'?" His eyes widened, giving her all the answers she needed. "The longer I remain, the more likely the Wraith will find us here. As long as you're with me, you aren't safe."

He scrambled closer to her. "But we can fix that!"

The words chilled her to the bones. That wasn't possible. Once a Runner, always a Runner. _Always._ "That's not possible."

"No, no, it is! Very much so. I'd do it myself, but I'm not much of a Doctor. No, Beckett's more suited to that sort of thing. Not bothered by blood, either." He met her eyes once more. "We have a former Runner on our team. Ronon."

"Former Runner," she stated, the disbelief cutting through her voice like a hot knife. "Prove it."

Mckay opened his hands, eyes widening as he tried to think of how to do such a thing when what he clearly needed was for Ronon to magically appear at the entrance. She wouldn't believe it till she saw it. Every time she'd managed to have the tracking device removed, Wraith fell down upon her and whoever had helped with a vengeance. Most of her would be rescuers were fed upon while she was forced to watch. Sometimes over and over again until the victim expired from the strain of the feeding process.

The faces of the dead were burned into her memory. She didn't want to add Mckay to that list, not after she'd helped him to _live_.

And he'd been _kind _to her.

"I can't," he said, clearly distressed. He wanted her to believe. "I mean, I can tell you the science behind it, but I don't know that it'll do much good, or how much you'll understand. But suffice it to say that we have a lot of Ancestor technology, and we _are_ very capable of removing the Wraith tracking device. You just have to trust us. Trust _me._"

She eyed him dubiously. Ancestor technology. Not many worlds she'd come across sported _that_. Maybe... maybe he could really do what he said. Dare she hope? Hope was such a foreign concept to her that she found she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. A warm seed melting the ice in her belly.

"Why would you help me?" She asked him. There was no reason for him to; he gained nothing. Most people had stopped helping her years ago.

"Because it's what we do?" The way he said it phrased as a question confused her. Was she supposed to understand that it was simply in his (and his companions) nature to help others, unreservedly, for no other reason than out of the goodness of their hearts? She highly doubted that.

Before she could reply, she heard a noise outside, barely audible above the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, running down the side of the ledge just beyond the entrance. A twig snapped. Eva removed her gun from its holster and slid towards the entrance, motioning for Mckay to be quiet. Something he (thankfully) did immediately, and grabbed his own gun from his jacket.

She wasn't exactly comfortable with him possessing a weapon while behind her, but if their position in the cave had been compromised, she'd rather have him armed than meet the consequences if he wasn't.

She crouched near the entrance and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. A shadow loomed near the entrance, carefully poised at the threshold. She held her breath, waiting for it to come just a little closer.

It did.

With a glance at Mckay, she clicked her gun to stun in case it turned out to be his friends. Hopefully she wouldn't regret that decision in five seconds.

The man casting the shadow emerged into the light, and Eva stepped out into the light, pointing her gun right at his dreadlocked head. She stared down the barrel of his, and neither flinched.

* * *

And Eva meets the team of Atlantis at last! But at gun point? Surely nothing can go wrong here... ;)

I want to thank everyone for the alerts and reviews :)


	4. Empathy

_Colonel Sheppard once told me to stop living in the past. Until recently, I didn't truly comprehend the meaning behind those words._

-E-

Green eyes pierced into hers, mirroring the challenge she knew her own expressed. The bottom of his lip pulled up into the barest hint of a smile, and his grip tightened on his gun, both hands holding the barrel steady with a deadly ease.

She stood her ground, her own hands unwavering.

"Nice gun." The warrior said. His voice was gravelly and low, with a melodic cadence that surprised her.

Her eyes flicked to his gun then back. "Your battery is low."

He narrowed his eyes. "Nice try."

She shrugged without compromising her aim. He was definitely one of the men that had come through the ring with Mckay, but damned if she'd lower her weapon first. As long as he pointed his gun at her, she'd stand her ground.

Undoubtedly, he thought the same thing, because he showed no hint of backing down either.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, and Eva tightened her grip on her gun, ready to pull the trigger. He looked like he'd need at least one blast from the stun setting.

Curiously, he raised a hand to his ear and spoke. "I found Mckay. Probably being held hostage." He stared at her, his green eyes bright with the barest hint of joy because he knew she was cornered.

"I'm not a prisoner!" Mckay said from behind her. She heard him rustle as he attempted to stand.

"You want your friend? Take him and leave."

"Put your gun down first."

"Come over here and make me."

His muscles tensed. Maybe he'd take at least two hits. His eyes roved over her body, and she felt chills as they settled on the clan markings on her left arm. "The Surians are dead."

She charged her weapon. "Say that one more time."

He remained silent. Eva was almost sad. She wanted an excuse to blast him in the chest for the insult he dealt her people. The smirk from his eyes was gone, replaced with a wariness and something else she couldn't quite comprehend. Something that forced the corners of his eyes to pinch in as he stared at her, small lines forming just below his irises.

The sounds of footsteps filtered in through the entrance, and the last two members of the group stepped into the cave. Eva didn't spare them a glance, too focused on the man in front of her. She could tell neither of them had their guns raised, and that was good enough for her.

The dark-haired one in charge spoke up. "Ronon, stand down."

Ronon continued to evaluate her. "Her first. She's got Mckay."

"And she clearly was helping him. His leg is bandaged, and he does not look as if he were harmed." The woman was more observant than Ronon. She cast her eyes to the newcomers and gave the woman a brief smile. The woman simply nodded.

Mckay walked up next to her and stood not quite in front of her. "I wasn't harmed! No harm done. In fact, quite the opposite, despite her very Ronon behavior. Look, we should help her." He turned to face Ronon, though why he should didn't seem readily apparent. "She's a Runner."

The simple statement had an unprecedented effect.

Ronon lowered his gun.

This time she recognized the emotion in his eyes. Empathy. Not just sympathy, but _empathy._

For the first time in a long time, she felt the corners of her eyes sting.

Her grip on her gun faltered and the woman stepped in closer to her. "The people of Atlantis are well-meaning and kind. If we can find a way to help you, we will." She smiled comfortingly at Eva. She took notice of the kindness in the woman's words, and nodded. "I am called Teyla. He is Colonel Sheppard," the dark-haired man smiled at her, walking over to Ronon, "He is Ronon," Ronon was still looking at her, "And I see you have already met Doctor Mckay."

"Eva Vasir."

"May I ask how long you have been a Runner?"

"Twelve years and 3 months."

Everyone stared at her. Mckay was the first to speak. "She has you beat by 5 years, Ronon. I bet she could kick your ass. Probably a rare thing, for you."

Ronon locked eyes with her.

"I tell you what," Sheppard interjected, "We'll head back to the gate, dial Atlantis and radio for Beckett to come out and see if he can't remove the tracking device. He did it for Ronon, so I'm sure he can do it for you. Though from what I saw, the process seemed quite painful."

"I'm not afraid of pain."

Blue eyes searched her green. "Never said you were. But you might want to consider letting Doctor Beckett give you something for it. I promise not to leave you behind."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Colonel."

"He doesn't," Ronon said. With that, he turned and exited the cave.

Teyla moved towards Mckay and helped him to exit the cave. Eva hung back, taking up the rear with Colonel Sheppard. He carried himself with an air of amusement, but beneath the surface, she could sense an intensity and wariness. Why he tried to hide it, though, she couldn't tell. Perhaps to make people underestimate him?

"So how did the lady come to hold a gun at you, Ronon?" Sheppard called out, winking at her. "Thought you were supposed to be a good tracker?"

"I am," Ronon replied without looking back. "But even the best tracker can't cover up the sounds of the idiots walking with them."

The others laughed, and even Ronon shared a grin with Sheppard. They seemed so at ease with each other, relaxed. The tossed banter back and forth like cheap wine. She found herself examining Ronon closer. Had he really been a Runner at one point? She found it hard to believe, all things considered.

And yet, green eyes misted with empathy filled her mind.

* * *

**AN: **Ronon stand-off! What's sexier than Ronon aiming his gun at someone, looking all intense? Not damn much, that's what. ;)

Next chapter, removing the device, from Ronon's POV! :)

Thanks again for all the reviews and alerts, guys! I love hearing from all of you! :)


	5. Trust

_As a Runner, I never thought about the future. It was always a nebulous thing, soaked in improbability - something only happy people were allowed to fathom._

-E-

Ronon stood off to the side. Beckett had just stepped through the gate and immediately set to work, muttering under his breath about the conditions and exposure. It was the same stuff he'd mentioned just over a year ago while performing the same procedure on Ronon.

Which brought him to the current object of interest: the small blonde woman sitting on a rock nodding along to Beckett's description of the procedure. Teyla had a good four inches on her. Up until then, she was the shortest person he'd known. Eva stood at 5 feet, and didn't even reach his shoulders.

Eva's eyes were guarded as she examined the instruments Beckett was setting down next to her.

It would be painful. Hopefully, she'd follow Sheppard's advice and take the painkillers.

Though if she was anything like him, she'd refuse. Judging by the insistent murmuring emanating from the doctor, she'd done just that. Ronon recognized the steely determination in her eyes and the hard set of her jaw. She wouldn't budge. Beckett simply slumped his shoulders and went back to his equipment.

She had two scars running across her face. One starting an inch above her left eyebrow and cutting down to the edge of her jaw, and the other crossing at an angle over it, going over her eye. The skin was the pale pink of old wounds, not fresh ones.

Most people couldn't boast that their facial scars didn't detract from their appearance - but she could. They gave her an edge and managed to enhance her rough beauty. It helped that she bore them with grace, not hiding them when she talked to people.

Aside from her terseness, she came across as direct. Honest.

"You know," Sheppard murmured to his left, and Ronon turned his head a fraction of an inch to give the Colonel his attention, "It might not be a bad idea if you sat with her, seeing as how you can probably relate to her the most out of all of us."

"She seemed to like Teyla." He'd noticed the smile she'd given Teyla when the athosian had given her observation of the situation. If the corners of her mouth quirking up a fraction of an inch could be called a smile.

Sheppard smiled and shrugged. "Everyone likes Teyla. But you're still better suited for the job. I think she'll trust what you have to say more than us."

Ronon grunted and Sheppard smacked him on the back as he strode over to where Eva was sitting. He picked up a nearby log and plopped it a foot away from her and sat down. She didn't flinch, green eyes watching him warily. He folded his arms across his knees.

"Beckett knows what he's doing."

She evaluated him. "I don't doubt that."

"You doubt that we'll actually help you. You think it's too good to be true." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He suspected most people wouldn't have caught it if they weren't looking for it. "You're waiting for us to deceive you, because that's all most people have done."

"Yes."

"It's what I thought when I was still a Runner." He shifted on the log. He didn't like talking about his experiences, but felt he should say something. "I'm still here."

Beckett came back, ready to begin. "Are you sure you won't take the anaesthetic? It'll make this a lot easier, love."

She stared at him, and Ronon nodded once. "Just enough to dull the pain." Beckett sighed in relief and smiled gratefully at him.

He came back with a needle and Eva tilted her head forward, brushing her short blonde hair away from her neck. Beckett injected the drug and patted her on the shoulder. "Should take effect here pretty soon," he explained. "Then we'll be ready to remove the device. You are going to have to remove your shirt, though."

Without warning, the small woman started doing just that. She deftly unlaced the sides of the leather shirt and began tugging it over her head.

Ronon swivelled on the log, and just barely registered an odd look pass through her eyes before he couldn't see her. He did it out of respect more than anything, and would have left had Sheppard not asked him to sit with her.

Aside from that, he had the distinct feeling that she found his presence... comforting? She appeared to be less on edge, perhaps because they both had one thing in common.

Well, two, he qualified silently to himself. They each sported a particle magnum.

He found himself wondering how good she was at hand to hand combat. Probably really good. Twelve years (something he still found hard to believe, yet the evidence was sitting here staring him in the face) as a Runner had probably honed her ability to defend herself whenever necessary. Though come to think of it... she didn't appear to be much older than 25. Which meant she'd been taken when she was a teenager. Why the Wraith had selected her for Running instead of simply feeding off her...

Of course. She was one of the rare people immune to the feeding process. "You're immune."

He heard her shift on the rock. "I am." There was a definite pause as Beckett arranged his tools on the ground next to her, while Teyla stood off to the side, assisting him in whatever capacity he required. "Figured it out from my age?"

"Wraith don't turn teenagers into Runners." She must be very brave, with a strong will to survive.

"I was 15 when they culled my planet."

"This might still hurt," Beckett interrupted, "I'd really rather you lie down, but I can already tell you won't. I shouldn't need to say this, but if you flinch... well, it won't be pretty."

Ronon scooted his log closer and offered Eva his arm to lean against. After a momentary pause, small fingers wrapped around his arm, curling over his muscles, and her head leaned into his shoulder. "Do it."

* * *

**AN: **Ugh, I don't think I'd want to have surgery done on me without being knocked unconscious. Especially with something so close to my spine. Thanks for reading and reviewing, guys! :) I really do love the feedback!


	6. Freedom

_At Atlantis, I discovered, for the first time, that I could look towards the future and have a reasonable expectation to believe that it would be there._

-E-

He was pretty sure she'd left ten little bruises on his arm. Not that he'd complain, since he offered it to her to give her something to lean against. Said fingers were now uncurling from his biceps, and cool air met skin where the warmth of her forehead had just been.

She hadn't groaned in pain, bitten down, or given any other indication that the cut and stitches had hurt, other than the tightening of her grip around his arm.

"You're doin' fine, love. Just need to clean it up a bit, and you'll be all set. Teyla, take this to Rodney. Tell him to make sure the signal is shut off."

And just like that, the Wraith tracking device was gone. He remembered the sudden sense of freedom he'd felt accompanied by an undercurrent of disbelief. Undoubtedly, the same things were running through her mind right now.

"You visited Sarif Sur?" she asked, the barest hint of an edge to her voice.

"Many years ago. My people used to trade with them. One day, the city was gone."

If stillness made a sound, Ronon would have sworn he could hear it, because Eva did not move a fraction of an inch while he spoke. He didn't have to see her to know that she was rooted to the spot. Learned instinct told him that she was motionless.

"I want to see it," she said.

She rose from her seated position, and stumbled forwards. Without thinking, he reached out and caught her around her middle with his hand, steadying her before releasing her.

Better than he'd done. He'd passed out at Teyla's feet after the tracking device was removed.

Beckett would say it was because he didn't take the anesthetic. He'd probably be right, too.

That was another thing that was different about her. Despite her years of loneliness, she seemed more inclined to trust than he had. Were he in her position... he probably would not have lowered his gun.

Which is why when he'd found out who she was, he had. Because he knew, and he'd recently been re-freed from the Wraith again after being re-captured and forced to survive in the ruins of his homeworld.

"Sheppard will see to it back at Atlantis," he replied, leaning down to pick up her shirt. He handed it to her, and she accepted it gracefully and turned around.

That's when he saw the pattern of scars on her back. Beneath the freshly (and neatly) sewn one by Beckett's hand were the jagged scars of older cuts. Clean ones where the Wraith had obviously cut into her, implanting the device. And rougher ones, some higher, some lower, indicating countless attempts at seeking freedom. Some were wide and crooked. Others were neat and precise.

She also had a little round white scar on her lower back, near the right side, where a bullet had passed through. The skin puckered around the round scar, and a small line crossed over it where someone had cut in to remove the bullet.

She'd apparently had more luck than he had finding people willing to help her. Perhaps that was the reason why, despite her wariness, she hadn't simply tried to kill them all and be done with it.

Eva began pulling the shirt over head, but pitched forward. He stood up and grabbed her by her arms before she fell. She mumbled a thanks.

Instead of releasing her, he helped her pull the small shirt over her head. Once it was in place, he moved a hand to her shoulder to keep her steady while she did up the laces.

He took the time to study her tattoo.

An intricate affair, denoting her place of birth. He didn't know much about Surian symbols. After all, by the time he would have need to learn them, the Surians were gone. Overlapping circles representing the orbits of 3 planets wrapped around her arm, peppered with small dots - moons - and the ancient symbol for the stargate. He may not know much, but he _did_ know that only older Surian clans carried the stargate symbol, which meant she was from an important family. Probably the daughter of a clan elder.

Her right arm was bare, indicating she'd never married.

Not that he expected she had, since she'd only been 15 when taken.

At least he'd been 22. Not much of a difference, but enough.

"If you're finished being all nice and friendly," Sheppard said, pulling him out of his thoughts, "then we can move out. Rodney, you better tell me that thing's destroyed, or I'm leaving you here with it."

"It's definitely deactivated, but I still think we should take it back with us. The Wraith use a unique subspace homing signal, and that kind of technology would be very useful. We might even be able to use this to turn the tables against the Wraith for once, track their -"

"No." His hand slid off Eva's shoulder as she turned around to face Mckay, voice hard. "Leave it behind."

Mckay stared at her, dumbfounded. "But you don't understand -"

"I'm inclined to agree with the lady," Sheppard interjected. "Ronon, destroy it."

"With pleasure," he replied. He held out his hand towards Mckay, and the doctor reluctantly handed the tracking device to him.

Ronon stared at it. Such a small thing to cause so much pain and suffering in one person's life. Not counting every person that suffered just because they'd had the misfortune to encounter a Runner.

He tossed it onto the ground and unholstered his gun.

But he didn't pull the trigger.

It wasn't his freedom that the destruction of this device was granting. It was hers.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sheppard asked.

Instead of answering, Ronon handed his gun to Eva. She met his eyes, and understanding swam in their depths alongside something else.

She clicked the gun's setting to incinerate and blasted the device, her eyes never leaving his.

**AN: Good thing she took that anesthetic, otherwise she might be a pile of unconscious woman on the ground instead (much to an amused Ronon whose been there). And at last, she's free! What an immense relief that must be, after 12 years of running. Next chapter, we'll get to find out just what she's thinking! Definitely thoughts of rainbows and true love, and everything will be perfect.**

**Or, you know, real life ;) Thanks for reading, guys! See you next chapter!**


	7. Home

_You guys gave that to me._

-E-

Devastation. Ruins. Broken buildings and old, burnt trees. A barren world, brown and dull.

Where the totems had once stood were now broken tipped scraps of wood. Where fields of rolling greens and blues and purples had once covered the lands, there was now ash and rubble. Even the sky painted a different color on the landscape, dull and desaturated.

The MALP pressed forward, into the broken remnants of a village.

It wasn't _her _village, but it may as well have been. Hers was a day's journey from the ring, following the main road. Or rather, what was left of the main road, which wasn't much. In the 12 years since the Wraith had destroyed her planet, nature had reclaimed part of what was once hers.

A tiny green shoot popped in front of the camera. The MALP stopped.

She felt a presence behind her, warm and comforting. She'd almost forgotten that there were people around her as she stared at the grave of her homeworld. Her civilization.

She should have felt something more... but she didn't. Just a hollow void in the pit of her stomach where feelings should have been.

She supposed a part of her had _known_ (the part of her that had lashed out against Ronon when he'd told her back on whatever rock they'd saved her from), in some form or another, that they were gone.

The day of the invasion had sent her world reeling towards its inevitable death. She hadn't been there to hear its final breath, to see the life fade out of its soul. She'd been captured in the beginning. _Culled_. Then the resistance started.

The Surians were a proud people.

Once she'd been turned into a Runner and set free, she couldn't bring herself to go home. She didn't want to know the truth that she faced today.

The room was silent around her as the others waited for her to say something. She couldn't. She didn't know what to say. _Yup, that's my planet. Dead alright. Can I stay here?_ She realized she didn't really know where to go, now. Would they let her stay? She felt like she owed them, more than she could ever repay. What was a life worth?

So far, they'd given her one day back. That was surely worth her loyalty.

She twisted to the side... and saw Ronon standing less than a foot away, arms crossed, examining the feed from the MALP. His eyes were hooded, deep. She wondered if he'd stood here not too long ago, staring at the same screen as similar images were presented to him.

Probably.

She slid her eyes towards Doctor Weir. "Thank you."

The video feed was cut. Mercifully. Eva turned her back on the screen. Better to put it behind her. No point in focusing on things she couldn't change.

The ruin of her homeworld definitely qualified. It probably took the number one position.

Doctor Weir approached her, expression soft, and Eva felt the defensive walls she'd forged over the years go up. She hated pity.

Probably because people typically pitied the weak. She was _anything_ but weak.

Doctor Weir stopped a few feet away from her, and Ronon twisted so he was facing both of them. "You're welcome to stay in Atlantis, Eva. For as long as you like." Eva nodded. "I've already had Anderson," she indicated one of the men working the computers, "look for suitable accommodations for you. Sheppard recommended quarters near Ronon's, if that's acceptable...?"

"Sure," Eva replied. She didn't really care where her room was. Though she got the idea that Sheppard had suggested that because she and Ronon were both Runners.

_Former Runners_, she amended. No longer members of the hunted.

"If you have any questions..." Doctor Weir started to say, but was interrupted as Rodney very noisily joining the group.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the medical wing?" Sheppard asked and Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Apparently Eva did a better job stemming the blood flow than I thought. Beckett patched it up and I gave him the slip," he clapped a fist into his other hand smartly. "Thought I'd come up here, say goodbye if necessary or welcome her to the team. City. Atlantis." He gestured and turned towards her. "So, thank you for the expedient care. Beckett has your sleeve if you want it back. Though, it's covered in blood and kind of gross, better to just leave it. And listen, if you ever need anything, I'm here. Whatever it is."

Eva stared at him, dumbfounded and slightly uncomfortable. Sheppard voiced her skepticism with a lazy roll of his eyes. "Really?"

"What?"

Ronon leaned towards Shepard casually. "Is this that Kirk thing?"

Wait, hadn't Rodney said something about kirk while they were in the cave...? "Intergalactic Kirk?"

Apparently, she'd hit the mark on something because Sheppard laughed disbelievingly. "Ohhh, you didn't say it in front of her, did you? You never say it in front of them!"

Rodney and Sheppard started bickering, one defending his use of the word Kirk while the other made fun of him for it. Evidently, Rodney was failing the argument. His cheeks flushed and he grew flustered while Sheppard laughed harder. Doctor Weir simply rolled her eyes, smiled at Eva, welcomed to her Atlantis, and strode away.

Ronon shook his head next to her. She was curious about this Kirk thing, now. She stepped closer to him and grabbed his attention. "Kirk?"

Ronon eyed her, the humor still sparkling in his green eyes. It suited him. "Mckay thinks you're pretty."

What, really? She didn't really equate her appearance with pretty. More practical. Hair kept short for fighting, attire cut to fit her without flapping. She couldn't resist casting a glance down at her body before looking back up at a bemused Ronon. "Huh."

"Come on, I'll show you to your quarters."

"You know where they are?"

"Only one empty room by mine."

With one last glance at Sheppard and Rodney, she followed Ronon.

**AN: Can you guys tell I was listening to moody music at the beginning of the chapter? **

**Also, I made a temporary Cover Art for Never Surrender! Check it out! :) Just a quick painting of the gate room for now. Eventually gonna add Ronon and Eva to the mix. Getting the correct height difference on those two will be fun. She's _short_ and he's _tall_. Seriously, Jason Momoa is huge (And gorgeous!)**

**And yay, Eva has a home! Though it looks like I lied about the thoughts of rainbows and sunshine. But what about true love? ;) Guess we'll just have to wait and see! Thank you, all of you, for the reviews! I love hearing from you guys. Criticize away!**


	8. Friendship

_You reminded me what it was like to hope._

-E-

She pushed the food around on her plate. Some sort of long green bean, potatoes that were creamed with a sauce on them, a type of berry, and a... sandwich? She was pretty sure that's what Mckay had referred to it as. A turkey club.

Whatever that meant.

The potatoes were enjoyable, if a bit softer than she was used to. She usually dug them out of the ground and roasted them over a fire. This meal was luxurious by her standards.

So the fact that she'd barely eaten any of it was surprising.

Perhaps not, considering all the awkward attempts to sit with people. Mckay had been on his way out with a tray full of food when she'd arrived. He stalled long enough to give her the rundown, plop a tray in her hands, and tell her that the orange juice was bad. After filling her tray, she'd chosen a seat near the window, at the smallest table she could find.

After that, the introductions had started.

Nothing sapped her hunger faster than chit chat.

Major Lorne had introduced himself, stood awkwardly at the edge of her table, peered around the room and left. She belatedly realized he might have been waiting for her to ask him to sit down. It'd been easier when passing through villages to engage, because everyone typically treated her with an air of hostility and weren't really interested in getting to know her. They didn't mind that she said very little and left without saying goodbye.

Next Doctor Heightmeyer had briefly stopped at her table. The woman's eyes made her skin crawl, as if she was looking at prey. It had been disconcerting, and Eva was only slightly ashamed to admit that she'd been rather terse regarding Doctor Heightmeyer's thinly veiled attempts to get her to open up. She got the distinct feeling the Doctor regarded her as something that was broken and needed to be fixed.

The implication pissed her off.

Doctor Heightmeyer didn't stick around. Sheppard and Teyla both stopped by, but since her table only had enough room for two, they continued further down. Eva regretted her seating choice at that moment, because she was beginning to feel like an object on display, sitting alone, silhouetted by the window. Others stopped long enough to introduce themselves, ask her name, maybe comment on the food, but when it became apparent that Eva royally sucked at small talk, they left to go talk to more interesting parties.

She hoped this would pass. Perhaps she'd eat dinner in her room tonight. Or find a nice secluded balcony somewhere, overlooking the ocean. She shoved a bean in her mouth and stared out the window. The piers might be a nice place, but quite a walk from the mess hall.

She didn't get to see many oceans. Now she lived on one. She found the waves calming, the sound of the water crashing against the hull peaceful. She'd left her window open in her room, letting the sound filter in and crash over soul as she slept. In a real bed, with real blankets. Teyla had greeted her at dawn, quietly knocking on her door, with some clothes. Aside from the height difference, they were largely the same build. She'd modified a pair of pants to fit Eva's height, something that stunned her. Eva had been at loss for words.

Fortunately, Teyla didn't need to hear them. She gracefully departed, leaving Eva to decide what to wear. A problem she hadn't had since she was 15.

A thud broke her out of her reverie, as someone slid into the chair opposite her.

Ronon glanced at her briefly, then dug into his food. He had a huge pile of the potatoes and 2 sandwiches. She picked up hers with one more glance at the ocean, and bit into it.

Years of scrambling for food had taught her to not be discerning. She'd eaten all sorts of bugs, vegetation, animals, etc. If the sandwich had tasted like dirt mixed with acid, she would have wolfed it down and considered herself fortunate to have something to tide her over for the next few days should the next meal never come. Instead, flavors exploded across her tongue, and it was hard to prevent her eyes widening as she took a second bite.

She relaxed in her chair, leaning back ever so slightly to allow the chair to support more of her weight. She finished off her sandwich and only slightly regretted not getting a second one.

She looked at the man sitting across from her, discarding the small box his second sandwich came in. Even sitting down, he was lot taller than she was. Possibly the tallest person she'd ever met. He had a tattoo on his left arm, but it wasn't intricate enough to be a clan marking. If his planet had clans. She realized she didn't know where he was from.

Not that it really mattered, she thought ruefully. His planet was dead, same as hers.

Didn't mean he didn't still uphold his customs though. Just as she upheld hers. Despite years of running, she still paid her respects on the Day of the Ancestors, practiced the evening meditation on the anniversary of her family's death, and attempted the Day of Reflection. That last one was determined by whether or not the Wraith had been trying to skin her alive.

She stabbed her fork on her plate... and realized it was empty. She hadn't even noticed she'd finished. So had Ronon. He wiped his hands and raised his eyes to meet hers. "I eat dinner at 6:00."

With that, he nodded and left. She watched him go, and realized they'd been silent the entire time he'd sat with her. She hadn't felt pressured to talk to him while he was there. Silence had felt like the most natural thing in the world, next to breathing.

Perhaps she wouldn't eat alone tonight after all.

**AN: Wasn't planning on uploading this day, but I got so impatient! So this is for you guys :) Enjoy!**


	9. Drenched

_You reminded me what it was like to hope._

-E-

Ronon flopped onto his bed, peering at the ceiling. He was sweaty and hot... and currently avoiding Lorne who was hell bent on getting him to learn how to play poker.

Studying cards and betting on what other people may or may not have didn't sound appealing in the slightest. He'd rather let Sheppard teach him how to play golf. Or listen to Mckay talk about something science-y.

With Mckay and Zolenka messing with the power grid, he'd done laps around the city instead of visiting the gym for his usual sparring match. An 8 mile loop through the city proper, completed twice. He supposed a part of him would always feel it necessary to run himself to exhaustion. The same part that still, even after over a year of freedom (not counting his recent re-captivity) didn't quite believe he was actually free from Running. If he went more than 2 days without at least an hour's worth of jogging, he began to feel as if something left behind was catching up.

Tired rationalizations that there wasn't anything behind him fell on deaf ears.

He'd tried to find Sheppard to see if the dark-haired man wanted to join him, but he'd been sequestered in Elizabeth's office going over something. He didn't bother going into check. When the two were bent over something together, studiously focusing on the task at hand, the city could blow up around them and they wouldn't bat an eye.

He checked the time. Only 5:20. Plenty of time to shower before heading to the mess.

He wasn't sure what exactly had made him extend that offer to Eva, other than he knew what it was like coming to a strange city after years of solitude. He saw a part of him in her. The tightness around the eyes, the tense shoulders. The alert way she sat even while supposedly relaxing. Very much the posturing of hunted prey.

Which she had been. He could empathize with that. Not too long ago, he'd been the one sitting the same as her, until Sheppard called him out on it and he realized he was in a city full of friends. He supposed he wanted to help make that transition easier for her than it had been for him.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to deal with the IOA anytime soon.

His door sounded a chime. "It's open," he shouted just loud enough to be heard on the other side. Sheppard was leaning casually against the doorframe, one boot kicked up over the other.

"Lorne's been asking after you," he said as he entered. "Something about you playing poker?"

"I never said I'd play. Not my thing."

"I don't think he'll give up quite so easily," Sheppard replied. "Man it is raining." He eyed Ronon stretched out on the bed. "How come you aren't wet?"

"'Cause I didn't run in the rain."

"Beckett said he saw someone running outside as if their life depended on it. Figured it was you. You know, 'cause you run. A lot. And fast."

"Maybe it was Mckay," Ronon quirked his lips.

"Ha, the day that man goes for a run... I'll be damned, there really _is_ someone running out in the rain." Sheppard leaned closer to the window, resting an arm across the frame. "On the pier."

Sheppard glanced at him, his expression mock surprise that Ronon was on the bed and not out there. Ronon rolled his eyes and sat up.

"Who the hell do you think is out there?"

"Does it matter?" He pushed off the edge of his bed. "I need to shower. What'd you need?"

"Your opinion on something," Sheppard replied. He picked up a bantos rod (a gift from Teyla) from Ronon's desk and began tossing it back and forth in his hands. "Elizabeth and I agreed that Eva should have some function in the city. If she's anything like you, sitting still won't sit well with her."

"And?" Ronon asked when Sheppard fell silent.

"I was thinking that her skill set seems inclined towards a particular profession."

"What about it?" He thought he saw where Sheppard was going.

"Do you think we could trust her on the squad?" He punctuated the question by catching the rod. He began tapping his other hand with it.

"You trust me."

"I do, but that's different."

"It isn't," Ronon interrupted before Sheppard could say more on the subject. "We saved her. I know what that's like, and I know what's going through her mind. You don't survive for long as a Runner without accepting the loneliness. Now she's not alone. She'll do anything to protect that."

Sheppard shook the bantos rod thoughtfully and set it back down. "That was... awfully poetic."

"I'll write in my diary."

"You keep a diary?"

"Out." Sheppard backed away, hands in the air, grinning. Ronon waved his hand in front of the sensor, closing the door behind the Colonel.

A muffled shout carried through the thick metal door, accompanied by boot-steps thumping down the corridor. "I'm telling Lorne where you are! Don't be surprised if you find a deck of cards taped to your door!"

He shook his head.

After a quick shower followed by fresh clothes, it was nearly 6pm. He pulled his hair back from his face, twisting a dread around to capture the others. The long run had left him famished and his stomach growled its protests.

He stepped out his room and a peculiar site caught his eyes: Eva was dashing down the hallway, drenched from head to toe.

Well, at least Sheppard's question about the mystery runner-in-the-rain was solved. She skidded to a halt once she noticed him, and he leaned against the wall, a grin playing across his lips.

"I'll just be a moment," she said as she neared him. Water dripped from her hair to her shoulders, the beads gliding along her skin. She shivered slightly.

"Take your time." He watched her disappear into her room, amused.

**AN: More Ronon POV? Why yes, I think so ;) **

**Next up are flashes (with some added content) of episode 7! For those that may not religiously memorize the episodes (I know, I'm kind of a freak), it's the episode where Todd the Wraith is introduced! So, not a big deal. Nope. I mean, Eva's only a newly freed Runner. **

**Thanks for reading, guys! **


	10. Tension

_This journey has been a hard one. Yet at the same time, it's been the most satisfying experience of my life._

-E-

"How long 'ave you been here, now?" Doctor Beckett asked.

She rotated away from the fixtures mounted on the wall to face Carson. An outbreak of a type of flu had run wild through this village, and the villagers called the Lanteans for medical aid. In a show of trust, Sheppard had assigned her to accompany the Doctor while he ran the rounds and took care of the sick.

"Just over a week," she replied. And what a week it had been. Training with the team, testing for the ATA gene (which she later learned allowed one to use Lantean equipment), learning how to use a P90 (despite the fact that she carried the particle magnum). Sheppard had wanted her to be familiar with their weapons should she ever have to use them. It made sense to her. She already knew how to use the gun, though, as evidenced by her round of perfect shots. What she really needed to learn was how to care for the P90.

The fact that it fired bullets was enough of a difference.

The P90 had an angular-cut sight unlike her particle magnum, which was more like a small rifle. The integral day/night sight was another intriguing ingenuity, and she was already working out a way to get something like that on _her_ gun, because damn if shooting in the dark wasn't a pain in the ass.

"Alright, all finished here, love. Off you go. Tell your mum one tablet every day for three days," he smiled at the small girl and ruffled her hair, before helping her down from the chair. He placed a small bottle in her hands before sending her on her way. "Well, that was the last one, shall we head back? Or do you fancy a stroll?"

She couldn't help the grin that spread across her lips. How was Carson so good at making people do that?

"_Carson, do you read?"_ Doctor Weir's voice sounded in both their ears, and Carson sighed dramatically.

"No stroll, then," he thumbed the comm. "Yes, Doctor Weir? We've just finished up here. Eva and I were gonna hang 'round, make some friends..."

"_Sorry Carson, we just received a distress signal authenticated with genii codes. We might need you here in case it's a medical emergency."_

"On our way," he raised his eyebrow dramatically. "Work ne'er ends, does it? Grab that case, will ya?"

Eva did as he requested. Soon, all the gear was loaded back into their cases, and they were ready to go. They made hasty goodbyes to leader. Eva noted that Carson only gave them a vague explanation for their hasty departure. Probably wise.

The leader turned towards her and touched his palms together in front of his chest, inclining his head formally, with the fluidity of practiced grace.

Eva gaped, and the leader smiled. "We once dealt with the Surians, long ago. _Ata'vai_." He bowed his head again.

This time she repeated the ritual goodbye of friends. "_Ata'vai_."

When she'd been a Runner, no one paid attention to where she was from. They didn't care about anything she brought, aside from the ticking clock that increased the probability of the Wraith arriving with every passing second. Now, they took notice of her, because she was no longer a threat.

The little void in the pit of her stomach resonated with something forlorn. Faded anguish. Echoes of a lost civilization.

They walked back to the ring in silence. One contemplative, the other out of respect. "Can I ask you something, love?" Carson asked as soon as they reached the ring. He began dialing for Atlantis.

"Sure."

He flashed a grin at her. "Was that a Surian goodbye?"

She shuffled uncomfortably. "Yes. _Ata'vai _means, 'farewell, my friend, until next we meet.' Roughly. It's been shortened over the centuries." She studied him while the ring spun around, dialing. "You speak differently from the others."

"Aye, it's cos I'm Scottish. But most of us are from the same planet: earth. It's not in the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Sheppard told me about it. He also said something about ferris wheels."

Carson laughed, "Aye, he would talk abou' ferris wheels."

The wormhole formed and they stepped through together, lugging the heavy cases with them. She glanced back at the village in the distance. Was she beginning to find her place in the world?

When they returned to Atlantis, the control room was a hub of activity. "Carson!" shouted Weir over the rail from above. The Doctor turned to look up at her, slinging his medical bag over his shoulder. "See what you can do about preparing for potential triage. Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon went to investigate and should be reporting back soon. I want the infirmary on standby."

"When did they leave?" he asked, already heading up the stairs.

"Twenty minutes ago."

Eva took a step towards the control center up above to see what she could do to assist when the ring began spinning behind her.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

She spun on her heel, unholstering her gun.

"Is it Sheppard's team?"

"No IDC yet! Wait- IDC confirmed. It's Doctor Mckay!"

The confirmation was punctuated by the man himself careening into Eva. She threw out her arms and spun him around her, sending him on his way. He was quickly followed by Teyla, P90 cradled against her chest. "It was a trap!" she shouted as she skidded to a halt.

Ronon blitzed through next, knocking into Eva. He captured her with his arms, unceremoniously picking her up before gently setting her back on her feet as he came to a stop.

The wormhole closed behind him.

"Where's Sheppard?" she asked.

Ronon's eyes darkened dangerously as he spun around. "Dial the gate!"

"I can't! The address is locked out!" Rodney yelled.

Ronon emanated dangerous energy, his whole body stiffened with tension. If dreads could bristle, his would be doing just that.

She awkwardly reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. She was surprised to notice that it was shaking ever so slightly.

**AN: Not related to SGA, but anyone play Skyrim? Play the mounted combat yet? Patch came out Friday to all 360 players, which is awesome! If I would stop running about the country side, shouting at my kinect like the badass Dragonborn I am, I'd have more to say on the subject than, "Woo, go try it!"**

**Little bit of a time skip here! Starting to get to some main plot stuff :) 'Bout time, yeah? **


	11. Misleading

_I can't always point out the good things that Running has given to me, but if I had to name one -_

-E-

"Alright people, let's do this one by the numbers: we get in, we get our man, and we get out. Stay sharp and stay safe."

Eva stared at Rodney with the rest of them, surprise etched on her face. The Doctor was many things (intelligent beyond belief and arrogant to name a few), but she hadn't expected to include _motivating_ on that list.

"Wha' are you on about?" Carson asked.

From what she'd been able to gather just from listening to others (typically while perched above, and often unnoticed - not that she meant to eavesdrop, she usually climbed up to _think_), Rodney wasn't exactly the type of man anyone expected to be a leader. He had the brains, but rarely demonstrated the qualities a leader needed _in addition_ to being tactically savvy.

"Oh, just things Sheppard would say, so I thought I would, uh.."

"Well said, Rodney."

Eva shared a bemused glance with Ronon before the Satedan turned towards the ring. "Just stay behind me."

"Right."

Eva crossed the threshold and hung back long enough for Rodney to emerge. A worried expression was plastered on his face. "I liked your speech."

"Thank you, Eva," he replied, genuinely pleased. It wasn't often that people complimented his leadership skills.

With the sentimentality out of the way (just over a week, and she'd already developed a roaring sentimental streak that surprised her with the vengeance it exacted as it spread its roots) she cruised up to right behind the hulking Satedan.

She felt more comfortable following close to him than not.

He was another one who surprised her with his ability to lead. Though apparently he'd been in the Satedan military before he was captured. That part didn't surprise her at all.

A blocky structure loomed ahead of them, blending in poorly with the surrounding vegetation. She was frankly disgusted that the Genii considered this a 'secret compound.' Though she wasn't sure if she was just casting them in a negative light due to their recent... acquaintance.

Using Wraith to torture prisoners was beyond unacceptable. Priority one: rescue Sheppard. Priority two: kill the Wraith. Priority three: kill Kolya.

Priority four didn't really need to be listed. If priorities one through three were met, getting out would not be urgent matter.

She had another desire to kill Ladon (much as Ronon did, she suspected) but Doctor Weir was adamant that Ladon was working with them and not against them.

But he hadn't seemed surprised about the Wraith.

Ronon glanced at her and tilted his head one direction, before walking the other. She nodded and slid along the exterior of the building, looking for an entrance. Teyla crept behind her, guarding her back. She kept her gun pointed at the ground as she peeked around a corner... and a smile crept along her lips. She signalled Ronon in the way Sheppard had taught her in his military crash course, and the Satedan sidled up next to her and peered around the edge as well.

The door wasn't guarded. Which either spoke poorly of the team that had captured Sheppard, or indicated that they were too arrogant to think they could be found so soon. Or perhaps the guard was on the inside, so as to remain inconspicuous for as long as possible. The other possibility was one she didn't want to think about.

She slid up next to Ronon on the other side of the door from the rest of the marines, ready to bust in right behind him. She checked her gun, verified it was set to 'stun,' and handed Ronon a grenade. In the brief moment where he broke the glass and shoved the grenade through the window, she studied his long, brown coat. The supple material was flexible and fit him well.

She needed one for herself. Cutting out holes in the upper arms would be an easy fix to ensure the visibility of her clan tattoos. The last remaining connection she had to her past, her people. To her family. Perhaps it was fortunate the Sarif Sur was a temperate world, because it was an unspoken rule that clan markings were always to remain visible. To hide them was to be an outsider, a show of ego that most found despicable.

The clan tattoos were vivid affairs that spoke of shared history.

She would always show her tattoos.

The grenade went off, and Ronon burst through the door. She quickly followed him in, the rest of the team hot on her heels. They spread out in a practiced search pattern. An aisle over, she heard the blast of a particle magnum and the thud of a body crumpling to the floor.

She continued down her aisle, and vaguely heard Ronon declare, "Just a caretaker."

Something was off. There should be more guards, more evidence of activity. The warehouse had the stale smell of an old, unused room.

The sound of gunfire caught her attention, and she honed in on its position and vaulted over a small stack of crates, blitzing towards the origin of the sound. When she rounded the corner, Rodney was attempting to explain the situation. "...corner of my eye, I just uh... you know, I reacted..."

"What is it?" Teyla asked. Eva slid noiselessly around the group, eyeing the shadows for activity.

Rodney shrugged awkwardly, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "Just umm... a mouse. A really big one, though. More of a rat, really. Possibly rabid."

She paused in her tracks to arch an eyebrow and Carson said, "This isn't the place, is it?"

"I do not believe so."

Ronon holstered his gun. "No, Sheppard wasn't here."

Rodney slumped, "And we just wasted 2 ½ hours."

"Move out!" Ronon ordered, and the marines followed behind him.

She moved to stand next to Rodney, expression still amused. He glanced at her before looking back at the crates. "...and a mouse."

She grinned. "I thought it was a rat?"


	12. Willpower

_- it would be you guys. All of you._

-E-

Someone screamed in the distance.

Ronon took off ahead of her, and she was right behind him as they hit the clearing. She slowed as soon as she broke through the trees - but Ronon kept heading straight ahead.

Then she saw why. He grabbed the Wraith leaning over Sheppard and threw him clear.

She had her gun trained on the creature a fraction of a second ahead of Ronon, but Sheppard's strained shout of, "Wait!" barely kept her finger from releasing the tiniest bit of pressure needed to pull the trigger.

The Wraith spun on the spot, looking at all of them in turn before settling his eyes back on Sheppard. He paused in his assessment as his eyes glanced over her.

The moment was long enough for recognition followed by white hot rage to sear through her.

_Him._

Oh, he hadn't been the one to put the device in her that turned her into a Runner. He hadn't even been the one in the holding room which stank of flesh and blood.

He'd been the one giving the orders on the ground, leading the assault. He was the one who'd captured her, breaking through the feeble barricade she'd set up in the basement of her father's manor, trying to protect the people who'd fled their homes in search of safety.

She shook with unbridled rage. It took every ounce of her willpower to obey Sheppard's repeated command to 'wait.'

Intensity must have been rolling off her in waves, because Sheppard was looking her straight in the eyes. Then they flicked to Ronon. She could feel the tension radiating from him as well, somewhere off to her right. A hatred that ran bone deep. He didn't understand, either... but he lowered his gun. He only lowered it a fraction of an inch, but it sufficed for Sheppard.

She couldn't do it. No matter how much she _wanted_ to (which admittedly, wasn't much) she couldn't lower her gun.

The Wraith must have sensed her struggle, because he turned back 'round to look at her, alien eyes unwavering and challenging as they met hers. He knew. She'd bet her life on it.

But Sheppard wanted her to _wait_. To _not_ shoot. It went against every instinct she had, as if instinct had become a physical thing, pushing against her skin. She couldn't _not_ shoot.

But she _could_ give Sheppard her gun.

Rather, he'd have to take it from her, because she wasn't about to lower it.

She broke her staring match with the Wraith and focused on Sheppard (always keeping the creature in her periphery), and did the only thing her hands seemed capable of doing: raised her finger off the trigger. She pleaded him with her eyes to relieve her of weapon lest he want one dead Wraith at his feet.

Sheppard wasn't the military leader at Atlantis for no reason. A small, almost imperceptible nod indicated he knew what she was asking, and he crossed the small distance between them. She released her weapon into his hands, spun on her heel, and walked away. He made no effort to stop her, though she reasoned that he'd be asking why later.

If they were going to talk and negotiate with a Wraith, she couldn't be there. Not with _that_ Wraith, anyway.

A not insignificant part of her screamed that she'd just made a terrible mistake, that she needed to go back and kill the bastard partially responsible for the demise of her society. The Wraith who'd decided that they could use more playthings, and the Surians so neatly packaged in the basement with nowhere to flee would make an excellent supply. _"Don't kill them all. Take them back to the hive, where they can be preserved for later. The first batch through can feed those aboard."_

With that, they'd been dismissed. Of no consequence, certainly not a threat.

She was so lost in old hatred and bitter thoughts that she didn't hear the purposefully heavy footsteps behind her. Her shoulders hunched forwards, like a wounded animal, as she leaned against a tree. She wasn't aware of the physical presence of someone standing next to her until a heavy hand gently fell upon her shoulder, causing her to spin about in a knee-jerk reaction.

If Ronon hadn't anticipated the maneuver, her punch would have connected. Instead, he deftly caught her fist and held it until she realized _who_ she was punching, and let the tension melt out of her muscles.

They stood in companionable silence for a while, until Ronon finally broke it. "My first time after being freed and told to 'hold fire' wasn't easy, either."

Ah, so that's why he was here. It made sense, and she figured if it had been any other Wraith, she might have been able to bite down on the rising bile and lower her gun. She couldn't entirely keep the bitter edge out of her voice as she spoke. "Was that Wraith responsible for your capture?"

Ronon stiffened next to her, and she found someone _knowing_ to be a huge weight off her shoulders, followed by the inexplicable urge to cry and hit things. Hard. On both accounts.

His hand twitched towards his gun, and a surge of warmth rolled through her. She shouldn't be happy that someone wanted to kick ass on her behalf, because she was fully capable of kicking said ass herself... but the idea was a warm seed in the ice in her belly.

"How do you do it?"

He glanced at her. "Do what?"

"Not kill them." No need to say who 'them' was.

Ronon took a moment to answer, green eyes staring off into the distance. "I trust Sheppard."

"More than you hate the Wraith?" Was it really that simple?

"Yes."

She paused. Perhaps it really _was_ that simple. She may not have developed the same level of trust for Sheppard that Ronon had... "Ok."

"Ok what?"

… but she realized she trusted someone else. "I trust you more than I hate the Wraith."


	13. Tattoo

_Everyone has been so kind to me. So patient and understanding, even when they had every right not to be._

-E-

"These are called bantos rods. My people use them in bantos fighting," Teyla handed two bantos rods to Eva. She accepted the cloth-wrapped bundle with great care.

"Thank you, Teyla." Eva was at a loss for words as she slowly unwrapped the rods. They felt sturdy, solid. Not liable to break under pressure.

"Hold them like this," the Athosian demonstrated, deftly moving Eva's hands to the proper grip. The rods settled in her fingers, feeling as if they were an extension of her limbs.

"Do you carry these with you when you go out on missions?" She swung the rods, twirling one between her fingers. It wasn't slippery, despite the finish. Good.

Teyla smiled. "Sometimes, yes. It is less about the rods and more about the skill."

Eva arched an eyebrow as she eyed the Athosian. "Isn't everything?"

Teyla's smiled widened. "A fair point." She paused. "May I ask you a personal question?"

Eva set the rods down and wrapped them back in the cloth before tilting her head to look at Teyla sitting across from her on the floor. Teyla's room was warm and inviting, which maybe had an effect on her disposition, because she wasn't used to sharing details of her life with others. Not that she had a lot of experience with that to begin with, considering the vast majority of her adult life had been spent _alone_.

She'd never been one to talk much about herself. "Uh... sure."

"The tattoo on your arm, does it signify something important?"

Eva twisted her arm so she could see the tattoo that was the mark of her birth. In the few weeks she'd been her, she'd managed to have clothes modified to approximate the Surian design of detached sleeves. To hide your clan tattoo was to be ashamed of your birth.

She was anything but ashamed.

Her father was the man who'd united her people in their last days. If only she'd known when he left that final time that it would be her last time ever seeing him again, she could have said goodbye properly. As harsh as it sounded, she wished fervently that he'd died fighting the war, not at the hands of the Wraith.

She slid a finger along the edges of the intricate design. "It's the tattoo of my clan: High Clan Vasir."

Teyla arched an eyebrow. "High Clan? That sounds... high."

A small laugh escaped Eva's lips. She supposed that did sound odd. Hell, it sounded a little odd to herself because it wasn't something she'd thought a lot about. Not much time to sit down and ruminate over your existence when you were focusing on continuing said existence.

She hadn't thought of her family in an even longer time, as if they'd become a footnote in the history of Eva Vasir. She'd expected to be filled with sadness, something to indicate that there was a void in her heart where they used to be. Instead she found herself ruminating fondly over them. Her father who always seemed to have the answers she needed (though she suspected now that he made half of them up); her sweet, yet firm mother; and her old brother, who'd annoyed the hell out of her, but had always been there when it mattered.

She couldn't really remember what they looked like anymore. Just vague impressions and warmth when she ran their names through her mind, as if they held a power that even the Wraith couldn't break.

She realized belatedly that the power might be love.

She also realized that her recent friends here at Atlantis were beginning to occupy the same barren wasteland in her heart. Perhaps it wasn't so barren after all.

"Yeah..." she replied lamely, not entirely sure how to broach the subject. How did one say, 'Hey, I'm the daughter to a High Elder. Probably one of the biggest things you can be short of actually _being_ the High Elder. Did I mention that Vasir was the most _prominent_ clan? 'Cause there's that, too.'?

Teyla's hand found hers, and she gave a soft squeeze of comfort. "Many of my people have been taken by the Wraith. I lost my father to a Wraith culling when I was a child. It is... hard."

Eva truly didn't know what to say to that, so she sufficed with simply squeezing Teyla's hand in return, letting the simple gesture speak for her.

"Ronon and I are both here, should you need to talk."

Ronon. He really would understand, wouldn't he? He'd lost everything to the Wraith just as she had. She didn't know the extent of his family - and she wouldn't inquire unless he told her it was ok - but she imagined that he'd lost many people close to him. Not to demean the loss of Teyla's father, because the loss of even one person to the Wraith was devastating enough... but it'd be _easier_ for someone who'd lost their entire civilization to talk to someone else who had, as well.

She'd learned to shut too many things away, running from the Wraith. Now she had to learn how to open up.

"I... thank you."

Teyla gave her hand one last squeeze and released it.

Eva twisted a bit awkwardly on the floor as Teyla gathered up the equipment around her and started to rise. She expected vulnerability to feel unpleasant, and wasn't surprised that the urge to run and hide was there. But a greater desire kept her rooted to the spot: the desire for companionship. After so many years alone, she was surprised to see that the desire had taken root with a ferocity that would have terrified the wildest animal.

"Do you have time to go to the gym for some lessons in bantos fighting now?"

Eva stood up and replied, "Of course."

She was eager to learn.

"I believe John and Ronon are running today, so we should not have to fight them for the sparing mat."

She grinned, "What a shame."

-E-

AN: I apologize that this chapter took a bit longer than normal to come out. After a brief stretch of writer's block, I _poured_ out words onto a notepad detailing the entire plot of NS. So if anyone was worried that this story might not go anywhere, worry no longer!

Also, the ME3 Extended Cut DLC came out, and that took precedence over _everything_. Thank you guys for reading. :)


	14. Expectations

_I never expected that I'd have the opportunity to live with such a group of wonderful people._

-E-

"And the villagers don't mind us rummaging through their ruins?" Sheppard asked Rodney. The ring spun behind him as the operators dialed it from the platform above.

Eva glanced back and saw Doctor Weir gazing down at them. A small smile played across her lips, undoubtedly from listening to the conversation between Rodney and Sheppard. Rodney was adamant the villagers would be fine with it, while Sheppard wasn't so sure. Both voiced their opinions rather loudly, and she caught an amused smile from Doctor Beckett.

"You'll learn to tune them out, love."

"I don't know," she replied, eying Rodney as he stood red-faced in front of Sheppard who was clearly just messing with him at this point, "it's kind of amusing."

"Jus' get some food, and it'd be dinner and a show."

She returned her gaze back to Beckett with a confused arch to her eyebrow. "A what?"

Beckett shook his head apologetically. "Something from earth. Watching shows for entertainment with food. Dinner and a show."

"Ohhh." It reminded her of the grand theater at the heart of her city. Electricity hadn't been widespread, because the Surian Order had believed that comfort did not outway the cost to the environment. It was one reason why the cities were so separated. Exploring the Ancient Ruins had gifted their scientists with many insights into power generation that didn't harm the environment. But the theater always had power, thanks to her father. He'd valued culture.

Of course, now she _lived_ in a city built by the Ancients. There was no waste, and, as she gathered from Rodney, that was because of the ZPM's.

The 15 year-old girl in her desperately wanted to explore every corner of the city, understand the architecture, discover the many secrets lurking in the database. She couldn't resist the thrill that rose in her every time she remembered exactly _where_ she was standing.

Her father would have loved this city.

She shoved that thought down before it had a chance to grow into something darker.

The wormhole formed in the ring, whipping out like a drop of water hitting a pond, pulling her out of her thoughts. Sheppard whirled on the pad. "Let's move, people!"

She checked her gun before reholstering it.

"You ready?" a voiced asked behind her. She turned around to see Ronon, walking just a bit behind her and to her left.

"Ready for what?"

He grinned. "It's a Rodney mission. They have a tendency to blow up."

"Literally?"

"He blew up a solar system."

She eyed Ronon up and down, trying to decide if he was joking. Destroying an entire solar system seemed a bit far fetched, even for someone as brilliant as Mckay. She was about to ask him a question when the icy feeling of walking through the wormhole hit her. It felt as if someone drenched her soul in ice water. Then it was over.

Warmth beat down on her from the sun, and she was suddenly grateful for the light material of her shirt. A light breeze was the only relief against the heat, and even that didn't provide much. She shaded her eyes with her hand, deciding to ask Sheppard about the dark glasses he was sporting once they returned to Atlantis.

Grass crackled beneath her feet as she moved towards the welcoming group, and Ronon emerged from the ring behind her. He stopped next to her and she couldn't resist leaning into him and quietly asking, "Did Rodney really blow up a solar system?"

He looked down at her and she was suddenly struck by exactly how tall he was. She barely reached his shoulder. The fact that she had to crane her neck only exemplified their close proximity. He lowered his head towards her and softly replied, "He really did."

The bare skin of her arm brushed against his side as she twisted to look at the villagers talking with Sheppard, Rodney, and Beckett, standing on her tippy toes to get a better view. "How the hell did he do that?"

Ronon's answering shrug jostled her a bit, but not enough to cause her to lose her balance. "Do you want me to get you a box?"

She crashed down on the flat of her heels and looked back up at him, barely resisting the urge to look at him mouth agape. His eyes twinkled with mirth. "Alright, laugh it up big guy. But I could still kick your ass if necessary."

The twinkle deepened and warmth that found its roots from somewhere else that wasn't the sun spread through her. "I'm pretty sure I could hold you still with one arm."

Eva narrowed her eyes. "I'd like to see you try."

"Hey Bonnie and Clyde!" Sheppard hollered, causing the both of them to face forward once they realized Sheppard meant _them_. "Village or ruins?"

"Ruins," Eva replied without thinking. A glimmer of the girl seeped through.

"Ruins," Ronon said after a moment.

"Ok, you two with Rodney then. Beckett, Teyla, and I will be at the village, negotiating trades. Meet us there in six hours at the pub. Tyras says it's easy to find once you hit the main road." Sheppard glanced around before whispering, "And don't let Rodney boss you guys around or break anything."

Doctor Mckay strode up to them. Sweat gleamed on his skin. "Ok, heavy lifters, this way."

Eva arched an eyebrow at him. "I prevented you from bleeding out back on that rock."

"And for that, I'll be eternally grateful," he sighed. "Now let's go before we waste our time bombarding our skin with unnecessary amounts of radiation."

She brushed past him, shaking her head. Ronon bumped lightly against her as they walked along the path and rolled his eyes at the Doctor walking behind them.

"Hey, no secret warrior eye talk up there!"

She glanced back at Rodney, but he was engrossed in his tablet, having already forgotten that he'd just yelled at them.

"So, Ronon, know any good drinking songs?"

-E-

**AN: **Apologies that this update is coming a little late. I had to say goodbye to a beloved pet this past weekend, and getting back into the groove has taken some time. Thank you all for your patience and for being wonderful. :)


	15. Teamwork

_So I want you to understand the full meaning behind my words -_

-E-

"How come no one told me you can read and write Ancient?" Rodney paced in front of them. "Doesn't matter. Wasn't counting on needing help but these ruins are pretty twisty, it's easy to get turned around."

Ronon smirked at her, and even she couldn't resist grinning back. Rodney had led them on a merry journey attempting to navigate the ruins looking for a specific room that he thought might hold any technology that was still around. He'd attempted to blame getting lost on the crude layout of the map not lining up with the signs the ruins presented at major crossings. Between referencing the map and second-guessing the signage, he'd managed to turn them completely around.

Imagine his surprise when she had grabbed the map from him, walked to the nearest intersection, and pointed to their exact location.

He may be a genius, able to do complex math in his head and solve ridiculously complex problems in a matter of seconds that would take a normal human being of above average intelligence at least a few solid minutes (if not hours), but he hadn't spent four years studying the architecture of the Ancients, immersing himself in hundreds of years of architecture research as she had. Sarif Sur may not have been as technically advanced as the Lanteans were, but Ruins had been plentiful, and understanding how the Ancients had accomplished their massive feats of architecture had been something of an obsession of hers.

"When we get back, you should really stop by my lab. See what you know or can understand. Never know where knowledge might come in handy. Where'd you learn all this anyway?"

She was vaguely annoyed that his tone implied surprise at finding out that she knew something he thought she _shouldn't_ know, or was _incapable_ of knowing. "I wasn't always a Runner," she replied rather tersely, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No no, of course not. I didn't mean to imply that you were because, frankly, the notion is rather ridiculous. Still, sounds as if your civilization was more advanced-"

"You might want to stop talking," Ronon suggested, effectively cutting Rodney off.

For her part, Eva rudely snatched the map back out of Rodney's hands and stalked down the hallway towards their destination. It took a not insignificant amount of restraint to _not_ slap him.

Honestly.

She muttered darkly under her breath and cast a few dark expressions at Rodney who maintained a safe distance behind her as she navigated them through the ruins. He clearly wanted to take charge, but didn't want to risk pissing her off anymore than she already was.

How unbelievably _ignorant_ it was to assume that just because she wasn't on his level of intelligence, she couldn't compete with him in her own right. Sure, she wasn't _smart_ like he was, but nor was she stupid. She liked him better on those rare moments where he seemed to forget that he was the smartest person in the room and let his humanity take the lead. He could be surprisingly caring, something she grudgingly admitted in her current state.

A thought struck her, halting her steady march through the tunnels. Ronon peered at her inquisitively, but she ignored him.

Was she being the jerk now? Perhaps not initially... but could she be overreacting?

She wasn't exactly familiar with apologies. In fact, her social graces were probably on par with Rodney's now that she thought about it.

That brought a dry chuckle to her lips.

She shook her head and continued on at a reduced pace, preferring to take the Rodney approach of _not_ apologizing, but ceasing the jerk-like activity.

The epiphany and self-evaluation was... new. She mused over the changes. Just over a month ago, she'd _never_ have thought of herself in terms of being a social creature responsible for social adjustment. The very concept would have made her _laugh_.

Living a solitary (and lonely) existence had made it hard to integrate back into normal society. While the mind remembered what belonging and social interactions felt like, it lacked experience. And, as she'd quickly discovered, experience was key to just about _everything_. Her actions and words had long lasting consequences, and when that idea didn't frighten her to the point that she considered shutting herself in room for the duration of her life, it turned her into a nervous wreck.

Fortunately, she displayed emotion just about as well as she knew how to interact. Most people thought her stoic and 'Ronon like' which she took to essentially mean the same thing.

Her lifestyle forced her to be adaptive. This was no different.

It was just uncomfortable because she wasn't used to self-scrutiny.

"We're here," she announced, halting near the entrance to the room Rodney was looking for. She glanced at him, "You want to open it?"

He beamed, though she was sure it was more because he loved being the _first_ to do something and not because she'd ceded the honor to him, and pulled the door open.

The room was empty.

Oh, there were panels and a few research consoles, but they'd long since lost power and were covered in a thick layer of dust. This room hadn't seen any kind of human contact in _years_.

She followed Rodney into the room, marvelling at the design and envisioning how each piece fit together to form the oval shape of the ceiling coupled with intermittent arches, while Rodney lamented the fact that there was absolutely nothing useful. He smacked a couple of the consoles in irritation and only succeeded in puffing dust into the air.

She continued her circuit around the room, puzzling over its parts, trying to create the whole in her mind.

This trip may have been a pointless endeavor for the Doctor since he didn't find anything he was hoping to find (namely a ZPM), but it most certainly hadn't been for her.

She ran her hand along the cool surface, a small smile on her lips.

-E-

**AN:** Thank you everyone for the well wishes :)


	16. Duel

_- when I say thank you._

-E-

The sound of the bantos rods clacking against each other echoed throughout the circular room of the gym. She grunted as Ronon nearly whacked her arm, but managed to duck and block the blow. The resounding _crack!_ from the rods made her ears ring.

He backed away, wiping the sweat off his brow. She used the small moment of reprieve to towel her own.

They'd been practicing at this high-pace for the past hour. Teyla had cancelled on her earlier that morning following a comm from the Athosians on the mainland informing her that one of her friends had fallen ill. She'd left shortly after with Carson.

So Eva had meandered into the gym, resigned to practicing her balance instead of sparring. Ronon had found her like that not long after and offered to spar in Teyla's place. Eva had delightedly accepted his offer.

He fought without reservation, with intensity.

And with _force_. She used her small size to her advantage where he used his strength to his. The end result was that each landed as many blows as the other and were pretty equally matched.

Now her competitive side was beginning to take over.

It didn't help that they'd drawn a small crowd.

This time when he came at her, she swung low to the ground and whacked the back of his knee, sending him crashing to the ground. He caught himself on his other knee, one hand splayed in front of him, and eyed her appreciatively (which caused her cheeks to heat) before expertly swivelling and rising in one smooth motion.

Bantos fighting was less about specific maneuvers and more about how to use the rods to incapacitate the combatant. It was about adaptability, reading the enemy's actions and physical cues, anticipating.

She loved it.

Ronon had a determined gleam in his eye, an edge to the set of his jaw. This had just gotten a hell of lot more competitive.

She supposed the cheers coming from their small crowd didn't help, either.

She relished the challenge.

In particular, she enjoyed the competition.

They met in the middle of the mat, rods clacking in rapid succession as each gave and blocked blows from the other. She exhaled sharply and rocked on the balls of her feet as Ronon swung a rod downwards and she barely blocked it from hitting her shoulder. Her arm shook from the force of the connection and her muscles protested as he slowly, but surely, overpowered her.

Fighting him head on like this would get her nowhere fast.

She kicked his knee hard enough to make him falter, but not hard enough to drop him. She was too close to get that kind of power behind the blow. She did use the distraction it provided to reach her other arm up and knock his rod away.

Unfortunately, that left her wide open to his counter-attack with his free hand, and her ribs paid the price. She grunted as the rod connected, but succeeded in breaking free from his attempt to overpower her and force her to the ground. She could already feel the bruise forming tender on her flesh where he'd struck her.

She pivoted on her heel just in time to block Ronon's second strike against her, and quickly turned her parry into an all out attack, forcing him back a few steps as he blocked her rapid strikes. He grunted at the impact of her fourth strike and a hard edge darkened his eyes. The force of her attacks was surprising considering the speed.

She knew it wasn't a pace she could maintain forever, but that wasn't what she'd been after when she started. She wanted to know if he could keep.

He could.

She wasn't eager to see how long that would be, because if she estimated wrong, he'd overpower her with brute strength. Agility was her ally more than muscle (though she trained _both_ because overlooking one in favor of the other was stupidity - something she wasn't surprised that Ronon knew and followed).

If she wanted to win, she'd have to get creative. The man had _stamina_. Good thing she did, too. Though in a contest to see who could wear who out first, she wasn't sure who would win. Prolong this long enough and it was only a matter of time before he wrangled into her position she couldn't escape from simply because of his size.

She'd have to trick him into losing. The only question was _how_.

She landed a strike across his shoulders, but instead of following through as he anticipated, she quickly twisted out of the way and circled behind him.

He surprised her by dropping low to the ground and sweeping her feet out from beneath her. She landed roughly on her back and cursed while the (she noticed rather dumbfoundedly) much larger crowd whooped around them. Sheppard stood amidst a group of marines, all of whom were laughing and talking rather excitedly.

When her eyes met his for the brief second it took her to take in the surroundings, he gave her a thumbs up.

His sparring matches with Ronon usually ended with his ass being kicked in spectacular fashions.

Well, she was going to show him how to do it right.

Ronon was pivoting on his heels towards her and she rolled out of the way of his rod, hearing the sharp thud as it bounced roughly off the mat where she'd just been seconds before. She jumped up, landing on the balls of her feet and struck him across back then chest as he turned to her.

He dropped his rod out of his right hand and snatched her wrist before she could escape his reach and pulled her in close, trapping her against his body.

She could feel his breath dance across her lips.

Her hands were trapped against the flat of his chest and his other arm snaked around and yanked the rods out her fingers.


	17. Hold

_Because somehow, simply saying it doesn't feel like enough._

-E-

As she ruminated over her current predicament, a part of her subconsciously filing away the warmth of his chest flush against her, she couldn't stop cursing how unforgivingly tall he was. She'd attempted to pull away, but his arm was wrapped firmly around her back, gripping her wrists. With enough twisting, she might be able to break an arm free, but she needed something else on top of that plan, otherwise he'd simply recapture her wrist and would be on the lookout for more wrist-breaking-free actions in the future.

She was definitely too close to get a solid kick in. Besides, while that trick had worked once, she didn't think it would work again.

She jerked roughly away from him, the power behind the pull enough to cause him to step forwards to maintain his balance, while also roughly ripping her outer wrist free from his grasp. In the small moment where the space between them widened to an inch, she dropped downwards, using his hold on her other hand as an anchor while she slipped between his legs.

The thing about Running was that if one wanted to survive, one had to be adaptable, able to change tact at a moments notice, able to read the small movements that gave away actions a fraction of a second before they were executed.

Not for nothing had Ronon survived seven years as a Runner.

He dropped to his knees before she'd slid her chest through and found herself unceremoniously trapped beneath him. He grinned victoriously at her as he brought the rod to her throat in what was a perfectly executed capture. She was gracious enough to admit that he really had done a spectacular job.

But not for nothing had _she_ survived twelve years as a Runner.

From this point onward, if he ever managed to pin her like this again, he'd know to sit on her _waist_ and not her chest.

Her legs wrapped around his neck and yanked him backwards. The rod went flying and her wrist was freed as he grappled with her legs.

She also noticed the gym was _packed_. A wide circle had formed around them, shouting and whooping.

Ronon landed with a grunt and rolled over, which suited her just fine because now she was on top. Before she could _do_ anything with her advantageous position however, the world slid beneath her. Or rather, she slid up Ronon's body as he yanked on her legs and rose.

She couldn't exactly get into a good position since her rear was behind his head and not resting against his chest.

She punched him in the soft spot of his back and he grunted. She did it again, harder, and he cursed.

A rod glinted on the ground, out of reach.

He let go of one of her legs, and with the suddenly freed limb, she kneed him hard while he grabbed her by her hips.

She realized what he was doing a fraction of a second before he did it.

Sure enough, her world was turned upside down as he effortlessly tossed her to the ground. Having anticipated the maneuver, she'd managed to twist herself such that she hit the ground rolling, grabbed the rod she'd spotted while hanging from his shoulders, and came to a rest on her knees.

She used the small moment where they both evaluated the other to eye Ronon appreciatively. As much as he looked like a lumbering tank, he had a certain graceful fluidity that made him a compelling opponent. Hopefully, he was finding beating her to be just as much of a challenge.

If the bright glint in his eyes was any indication, he was. He paced in front of her like a predator. For one ridiculous moment, she imagined that if he had a tail, it would be slashing through the air.

One of the abandoned rods lie behind him. She spun the rod in her hands and he used his foot to move the rod in front of him, his eyes never leaving hers. Unspoken challenge oozed off of him as if seeping out his pores.

He flipped the rod onto the tip of his other boot, still not breaking eye contact. She waited for him to step on the edge and flip it. He waited to see what she would do.

For a moment, neither of them moved, and the crowd around them was silent.

Then everything happened at once. His boot moved the fraction of an inch necessary to start the flip, and she spun the rod in her hand and threw it at him as if it were a knife. She ran at him half of a second after her throw, jumped, and double kicked him in the chest while he knocked the rod away. He staggered backwards and she retrieved the rod he'd been about to take and rose.

If he wanted a rod, he was going to have to work to get one.

She was starting to feel the strain of their extended sparring match and noticed, with some gratification, that Ronon was breathing a bit harder than normal.

He rushed her, undoubtedly recognizing that close quarter combat was the best bet to take her down easily. She snapped the rod against his hands, but he'd tricked her with his punches and crashed both of them to the ground. Her head bounced sharply off the mat. She ignored the pain and tried to twist away from him.

Grappling with him was foolish.

As she rolled away his boots connected roughly with her side and she flipped across the mat and landed roughly on her side, facing away from Ronon. The wind had been thoroughly knocked out of her.

Conventional methods weren't working. She purposefully didn't rise, though she did open an eye and winked at Sheppard who was standing ten feet from her. His eyes twinkled, but he didn't give her away.

She felt Ronon loom over her. His boot nudged her back before he kneeled. She breathed evenly, waiting.

His hand fell on her shoulder and gently rolled her over. Surprise etched his eyes as she made eye contact, whacked him hard enough with the rod to cause him to fall backwards, and swung her legs around his neck, tucking his shoulders into the soft spot of her knees as she firmly held him in place. His head was pinned against her belly, rod pressed firmly against his neck. If he so much as sneezed, he'd choke himself.

Green eyes stared up at her, misted with surprise, amazement, and something else she couldn't quite identify. He nodded, conceding to her.

She released her hold, but he didn't move. "I guess that won't work again," she said.

Ronon grinned up at her, "Probably not."

Neither really noticed that they'd agreed to an 'again.'

-E-

**AN:** I uh, hope you'll forgive my deviation from the self-imposed 1,000 word limit on this chapter. I've been pretty merciless about cutting content, but couldn't find enough in this chapter for the chopping block.


	18. Request

_I would not be the person I am today without the support all of you have shown me._

-E-

Despite having on numerous occasions entered the control room and stood around as if she were a fixture, Eva had never entered the control room with the express purpose of asking for a favor. She'd always come because of the various missions that required her presence.

Entering the hustle and bustle of activity without an express ass-kicking agenda or the naggling worrier in the back of her mind that was always categorizing potential threats to distract her made her feel downright awkward.

Aside from that, she'd rarely approached Doctor Weir. Sheppard seemed to think highly of her, and the few interactions Eva had with the woman were generally positive. Doctor Weir projected compassion like a shield. Her emotions were always clearly written on her face.

Right now, the Doctor was striding across the upper floor, tablet in hand and Sheppard right behind her. They appeared to be discussing something.

Today was her father's birthday. It was her first chance to go back to Sarif Sur and visit him.

Oh, she was fully aware that he was _dead_, but until now she'd never had the option to go back and spend a day just _walking_ through her former home. As a Runner, she hadn't wanted to know that her whole world had been destroyed.

That excuse was no longer viable now that she was free.

Weir and Sheppard entered her office. Nothing for it but to follow them and hope she wasn't interrupting something important.

A few of the scientists nodded at her and she nodded back.

"...check it out. Could just be a malfunction with communications."

"I'll get my team assembled and ready to go in twenty minutes."

Eva tapped against the frame to get their attention. "Doctor Weir, I need to talk to you."

Weir exchanged a look with Sheppard, who stifled a grin. She wasn't sure what about her statement amused them. A small frown creased her forehead.

"Please, come in," Doctor Weir gestured to her desk. "What do you need?"

"To talk to you," Sheppard provided, and Weir slapped him across his arm without looking.

"I'm not sure how the protocol here works for visiting other planets, but I would like to go to Sarif Sur."

The sparkle of amusement fizzled out in Weir's eyes. "Not that I plan on denying your request, but is there a particular reason?"

"Yes."

Both of them waited for her to say more.

"...When?" Weir asked once it became clear that Eva wasn't going to say more on the subject at that time.

"Today, if possible."

Sheppard immediately shook his head, and Eva frowned again. "You're part of my team, Eva."

"Could this wait?"

It _could_, she decided, but she couldn't entirely stifle the feeling of... heartache? that accompanied the idea.

Something of her expression must have made itself evident to Doctor Weir because she motioned for Eva to sit on the small chair while seating herself at the adjacent one. Once seated, she said, "I get the sense that there's something more to your request than wanting to see your homeworld."

Eva fidgeted on the chair but maintained a firm gaze with Doctor Weir. "There... is."

"And you'd rather go today than tomorrow?"

"If possible, yes."

Sheppard leaned against the desk in her periphery. She once again got the sense of a lazy predator. Someone who was casually taking in all the information about the environment around him without giving the sense that he was doing any such thing.

"Today marks the day of my father's birth." She spoke the words in a rush. "And I'd like to..." her voice faltered near the end.

She wasn't good with this kind of stuff.

"I think I understand," Doctor Weir replied. Eva was grateful.

She didn't like admitting vulnerable, sentimental stuff. It made her feel weak, and she loathed feeling weak.

"Listen, this is just a check and run mission. I think we'll do just fine without you so if you need to go take care of something, you can do that," Sheppard interjected. "Though I think it'd be good if Major Lorne accompanied you."

"I agree," Weir said. "It's not my policy to send people alone, even if they're visiting friendly places."

"And I wouldn't exactly call Sarif Sur a friendly place," Sheppard noted dryly.

"That's acceptable," Eva answered. "I can wait to leave till after you've left, Sheppard."

The Colonel grinned at her cockily. "Excellent, that's settled then. I'll call Major Lorne."

Fifteen minutes later, Eva was standing at the base of the ring next to Lorne, mingling on the outskirts of Sheppard's team. Carson and Rodney were discussing the various reasons the communications could be down, ranging from 'dumb shows who turned their mics off' to 'electrical interference,' the latter agreed as the more likely by both parties.

Teyla wished her well on her journey, and Eva thanked her for the kind words.

Rodney interjected before she'd even finished thanking the Athosian, and Teyla grinned at her wryly. "Wait, you're not coming with us?"

"No," Eva answered.

Rodney stared at her for a moment, before saying, "Oh for the love of..." and walked away, muttering under his breath about 'terseness' and 'simple answers.' She shook her head. That coming from _him_.

"Good luck," Sheppard approached her and Major Lorne. "And stay safe. Radio back in two hours to check in."

Lorne nodded at Sheppard. "Same to you, Colonel."

"Do you know how long you're going to be?"

Eva considered. She only needed to visit the temple to say a proper goodbye to her family and wish her father well. But she did want to look around. "Maybe six hours. We'll be back before the end of the day."

"We'll keep a light on." With that, Sheppard strode away.

The ring activated and Sheppard's team departed. She met Ronon's eyes just before he disappeared through the blue curtain. For the barest moment, they'd appeared to be tinged with concern.

"Ready?" She asked Major Lorne.

-E-

**AN:** The next few chapters happen concurrent to 'Phantoms.'


	19. Silence

_Which is why I want to apologize._

-E-

Small puffs of dust followed Eva and Lorne as they descended a staircase that hadn't seen the rough soles of boots in years. The MALP hadn't done the planet justice.

Sarif Sur was _dead_.

Seeing the images through the MALP and visiting her world, able to touch things she'd only seen or dreamed about previously really hit home the undeniability that the soul of her civilization was gone. Everything her people had been, erased. Merely a footnote in someone else's history book. She realized she'd held onto hope that maybe, just maybe, not everyone had been culled or killed.

That hope seemed foolish now, broken against the cold slap reality dealt her.

She excused herself from Lorne and entered the nearest building. It had once been someone's home. She didn't know whose. It was broken just like everything else, empty like everything else.

As soon as the door shut behind her, she broke down, tears falling upon cheeks as she slid against the rough stone wall. She scrubbed at them angrily, frustrated at herself for letting her emotions overrule her, regardless of whether or not they had merit.

The hollow void in the pit of her stomach expanded and threatened to overwhelm her. She felt lost, truly lost, in the silence of her dead world. She was drowning in the sea of silence and couldn't seem to come up for air.

A sob escaped her lips. The sound was foreign to her and surprised her with its desperation, its anguish. She couldn't control the sadness rolling over her. She leaned against the wall for support, knees digging into the rough floor.

Six hours spent walking through her city, looking for the smallest sign that maybe someone had survived, after paying a visit to the temple. She'd said a few words at the base of the pillars in memory of her father. Her family. Then her world.

She was suddenly grateful she didn't have time to see _her_ city. She didn't think she could stand it right now. These had been her people, in the truest sense of the word. Her family had governed them, protected them. The silence rang with the echoes of the fallen.

The door scraped open and she furiously wiped at her cheeks, twisting away from Lorne as his shadow fell across her. She didn't want him to see her like this. Not _weak_ and _vulnerable_, crying uncontrollably like a baby. But she couldn't seem to stop.

She didn't really know Lorne, know who he was. Frankly, she only trusted one person to see her when she wasn't at her best, and even then, she wouldn't want him to see her like this. Partially because she respected him a great deal and didn't want him to think she'd break down at the drop of a hat, and partially because she thought that seeing her like this would remind him of what he'd lost. He'd lost just as much as her.

Then they'd commiserate together into puddles of uselessness.

Her heart burned and shuddered under the weight of loss long since forgotten and newly remembered.

Stepping amongst the ruins of Sarif Sur solidified the fact that there was nothing left.

At Atlantis, she'd begun to open up, to let herself feel and form attachments to people. Now she was plagued by survivor's guilt, because she'd been taken and survived while the others had perished. She bitterly cursed the injustice.

Lorne kneeled in front of her and wordlessly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened at the gentleness of his touch. Here was a man who didn't know her, but like so many others at Atlantis, displayed an inordinate amount of generosity and care. Her mind didn't know what to make of it. Whether she should be hissing that she didn't deserve his sympathy because she hadn't done anything special, or because of the fact that she'd been found in such a compromising position.

He produced a small fold of cloth and handed it to her so she could wipe the tears of her face once her crying subsided.

The hurt was still there, raw and newly discovered. Demanding as it clawed the void in her heart. But she was spent, energy depleted. Pain surged through her with every beat of her heart.

He helped her to feet. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Sarif Sur was a beautiful civilization," he murmured quietly. "You can see it in the architecture."

She looked at him. His expression was honest and sincere. "It was," she replied wistfully. She stared out the broken remains of the window. "Can you believe I wanted to be an architect? I loved buildings. Old, new, didn't matter." She handed him the small, tear-stained cloth back, an apologetic smile on her lips because of the ruined state. "I'm... sorry. It just... hit me."

"I think you handled it better than I would have," he admitted. "You and Ronon, I have no idea how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Carry on."

She slipped out the door and he followed her back onto the street. She didn't carry on so much as _survive_. "I never really had time to think about it until now."

All the buildings around her showed signs of deterioration. Some blasted from the war that must have occurred following the Wraith incursion, the rest simply from mother nature. Trees had crept into the streets, distorting the bricks. Branches flowed through houses, uncaring about the damage they caused.

As they reached the ring, she took one last chance to stare out over the home that had once been hers. The sun burned low in the sky. She closed her eyes as Major Lorne dialed Atlantis and transmitted his IDC, listening to soft whisper of the breeze as it streaked through her hair.

In her heart, she said goodbye.

When she opened her eyes, Major Lorne was waiting for her by the ring.

"Ready to go home?" he asked.

Home. Atlantis was her new home now. "Yes."

-E-

**AN:** In case anyone missed it from the last chapter (I updated the AN late :-/) the events of the previous chapter, this chapter, and the next happen concurrently to 'Phantoms.'


	20. Unseen

_It may seem as if I have deceived you, -_

-E-

The control room was in an uproar when they returned. Small duffels lined the short ramp leading to the ring and Doctor Weir was debriefing multiple people at once in the control center above. Zelenka was monitoring the DHD, deep in discussion with another scientist.

With this much activity, she was surprised that Rodney wasn't in the thick of it.

… Which meant he hadn't returned. The 'it's just a check up mission' was clearly anything but. Eva glanced behind her back at the ring and frowned. The duffels took on a new meaning. Eva was sure if she checked, they'd be full of medicinal supplies, rations, and additional survival gear.

Major Lorne patted her on the arm softly before quickly heading up the steps to ascertain the situation. If Sheppard hadn't returned and couldn't be contacted, Major Lorne would be in charge - provided she understood how the military structure here worked properly.

Unsure what else to do, Eva followed Lorne up the staircase and hovered at the edge of the conversation. Atlantis had finally managed to re-establish communications with Sheppard's team - whatever interference had existed before was vanquished. Probably something Rodney did, though a full mission report had yet to come through.

She was right about the duffels. The team couldn't dial out, their DHD having been destroyed.

"... reassures me the Daedalus will be there within seven hours. Carson's also positive that with the right medical equipment, he'll be able to take care of everyone. We don't need to send people, Major, just supplies." Lorne looked questioningly at Doctor Weir. She raised her hand before he had a chance to form the words on his lips. "Colonel Sheppard assures me the device has been deactivated and that it's the only threat existent in the vicinity of their location. I know you're concerned, Major, but everything is under control. How was the trip to Sarif Sur?"

Eva froze. "Uneventful."

"Well, that makes one mission that went right at least."

Eva wasn't sure that she would say it had 'gone right' but it hadn't gone wrong either. She was grateful that Lorne hadn't said that she'd gone crazy and required attention based upon her performance. The last thing she wanted was to have a conversation with Doctor Heightmeyer and her creepy, intense eyes.

She made a mental note to thank Major Lorne later.

"It'd be easier to send supplies through _with_ someone rather than chucking them through the gate."

Doctor Weir sighed exasperatedly and was about to respond when Eva moved up next to the Major. "Major Lorne's right."

Doctor Weir's lips thinned. "Clearly I'm outnumbered." She stared at both of them for a moment before sighing wearily. "Fine, I'll send someone. But not you, Major. As long as Sheppard's gone, your post is here."

The Major clearly wasn't entirely thrilled with the response. "I'll go," she volunteered.

She recognized that part of the reason behind her volunteering was the propensity to run, because she didn't want anyone else to see her while she still felt vulnerable. Running had become a lifestyle; one that was hard to break. When continually on the run for your life, stopping to deal with emotional baggage wasn't a priority.

It wasn't even on the mind. Survival was first and foremost.

It was also a really hard task to accomplish while Running. Which was probably why, now that she'd been at Atlantis for two months and her life had slowed down to the pace of normal people, all those things she'd kept down at the bottom of the barrel were starting to bubble up to the surface. They were no longer constrained by the sheer force of will to survive and were allowed to float freely.

Perhaps she should ask Ronon how long it took for him to recover.

She hoped he wouldn't say it hadn't ended yet. That would _not_ be encouraging.

Doctor Weir searched her eyes and Eva found it hard to meet her gaze. She wanted nothing more than to look away, to leave the raw part of herself unseen. It took a supreme act of will to studiously focus on Doctor Weir.

She only hoped her eyes weren't red. That'd be a dead give away. She was already pretty sure her eyes were a bit swollen from the sob fest she'd just endured, but hoped it wasn't too terribly noticeable.

Apparently whatever Doctor Weir found was enough to satisfy her, for she nodded. Relief flooded through Eva.

She'd be able to escape for a bit and collect herself.

Not that she expected the team would just let her wander away, but it'd be quieter.

"We're about to dial the gate, so if there's anything you want, now would be the time." Eva shook her head, and Doctor Weir continued speaking, leading her down the stairs towards the ring. "Okay, Carson informed us that Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, and Kagan are all injured but otherwise stable. We've gathered all the supplies Carson asked for and added a couple of other things like blankets and extra rations and water. Also a couple of flashlights in case the Daedalus doesn't arrive till after nightfall."

Eva's heart hitched at hearing Ronon and the others were injured. Especially since they were stuck until the Daedalus arrived. "Anything else?"

"Colonel Sheppard will meet you on the other side. We'll radio ahead before you step through so he knows you're coming."

Eva nodded and began hooking the duffels over her shoulders. They were heavy, but not too heavy. Doctor Weir handed her the last one and Eva accepted it, grasping the smaller straps instead of slinging it over already over-ladden shoulders.

"We'll see you and the others tomorrow," Doctor Weir said. "Be safe."

Eva smiled at her and the Doctor patted her on the arm, warm eyes smiling at her. She seemed to have an unending well of compassion. At first Eva had thought that was a weakness, but now she wasn't so sure.


	21. Seeking Solace

_- and I hope you believe me when I say that couldn't be further from the truth._

-E-

Sheppard beat aside some bushes along the path. "So how'd the visit go?"

"Better than yours, apparently." Not really an answer, but technically true.

Sheppard chuckled. "Well, every mission can't be this exciting. Camp's just up ahead."

The sun hung low in the sky. If Doctor Weir's estimates of the Daedalus' arrival were correct, the ship wouldn't arrive till well after nightfall blanketed the planet.

"Picked up a stray," Sheppard hollered as he pulled ahead, "Conveniently carrying supplies, food, blankets... I think we'll keep her."

Carson relieved her of the medical kit before she'd fully stepped into the makeshift camp and at Sheppard's direction, she set down the duffels filled with the supplies while Sheppard reported in to Doctor Weir. She ignored most of the conversation. Her part of the job was complete and now she finally had what she had truly wanted: respite.

The next few hours passed quietly. Most of the team slept as soon as night fell, though Sheppard and Ronon stayed up to chat in hushed tones while she patrolled the perimeter. The planet was quiet and the duty suited her just fine. It gave her time to collect herself; to not quite relax, but let her guard down a little because no one was watching her here. Not that they would have at Atlantis, but some might have asked questions. If not with their words, with their eyes.

She couldn't believe she'd broken down like that. Looking back she felt more than a little ashamed at her outpouring of emotion. She blew out an angry breath and flung her hair away from her face, more than a little agitated.

She _still_ felt the urge to cry uncontrollably. Only a very thinly held together line was keeping her from falling apart completely.

Something hot stung the corner of her eyes and she wiped at the tears furiously. She would _not_ cry.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to visit her homeworld. She'd _seen_ the footage from the MALP, felt the hollow void in the pit of her stomach echo dissolutely. A part of her had known that this was the expected outcome.

Walking through it wasn't something she should have done, and she was an idiot to think it would bring closure.

Instead, it exposed an old wound she hadn't realized existed.

"I'll take over from here," Sheppard appeared behind her, causing her to jump - something she hoped he didn't notice. "You go ahead and get some rest."

She was about to argue but he had a look about him that gave her pause. The steely set of his jaw, determination glinting in his eyes... he wouldn't take no for answer. Not wanting to look like a fool, she simply nodded and returned to the camp with every intention of getting some sleep herself.

The fire burned low to the ground, red embers with the occasional flash of flames. She padded softly to the supplies and retrieved a blanket, shoulders sagging with the weight of her gloomy mood.

"Hey," Ronon whispered, startling her. She'd thought he was asleep, and that was the second time someone had gotten the jump on her that night.

Eva eyed the open spot next to him and hesitated, unconsciously tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. She had planned on tucking herself up next to one of the trees a couple meters away... and instead found her feet carrying her to sit next to him.

She spread the blanket out on the ground, but didn't immediately lay down. "Hey."

Silence stretched out between them as she studiously stared into the embers. Why she should suddenly feel embarrassed and ashamed... she wanted to ask him about Sateda and overcoming the intense feelings that were coursing through her, but didn't know how to broach the subject.

She wasn't good at talking.

All that aside, Ronon was probably the closest thing she had to a best friend at Atlantis and the person she _should_ be able to open up to. But every time she shifted on her blanket, ready to speak, to say something - anything - her nerves fizzled out and her stomach congealed into a ball of lead, sinking her into the ground.

She closed her eyes and focused on her shaky breathing. Calm, focused breaths.

"First time I visited Sateda was hard." Ronon's voice was low, just loud enough to carry to her but not much farther. The words forced her into stillness. "It's not something you want to see, but know you have to. To know what happened because part of you held onto hope that maybe what you thought you saw wasn't real."

He shifted on his blanket, popping into her peripheral vision. For her part, Eva remained still as stone, as if an unseen force had bound her to the ground.

"It's not... easy, looking at the remains of your civilization, knowing that everyone you cared about is gone." She could feel his eyes on her but couldn't summon the courage to meet them. "Just because it affected you doesn't make you weak. It makes you _human._ That's something the Wraith can never take away."

Eva cleared her throat, still staring into the fire. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. "It hurts."

"It does." Ronon was silent for a moment. "It gets better. It doesn't go away and sometimes it still hurts like it just happened. But you heal."

She finally met his eyes, unshed tears blurring the edges of her vision. His expression held no judgment, no scorn. Just... compassion. He wasn't there to tell her that what she was feeling was wrong or unjustified, or that it had been over twelve years and she was acting ridiculous.

"You know you've got friends here, right?" he asked her.

A tear slid hotly down her cheek and she silently fought against the small voice that insisted she was pathetic. Ronon's calm presence and understanding gave her strength. "I know."

He smiled at her.

-E-

**AN:** I thought I would have gotten this chapter out before PAX, but I was mistaken. For that, I apologize. Regular updating should resume now that I'm home and all caught up on everything I missed. (For the curious about PAX, I have more details on my blog which you can access via my profile. I'll simply state this now: it was a blast!)


	22. Partners in Crime

_No one could have understood the full extent of the truth._

-E-

"You sure you don't have time to golf today?" Ronon grunted as Sheppard seemingly appeared out of nowhere, golf club swinging in his hands in smooth, practiced motions. He eyes the object suspiciously. Sheppard had explained the basic premise of the sport to him in the past, but the appeal still failed to entice him.

"Were you waiting for me?" He stepped around Sheppard and continued heading down the hall towards the mess.

Sheppard shrugged, holstering the club over his shoulder as he fell in step with Ronon. "Couldn't find ya' in the gym so I figured you were probably running around or doing whatever is you do when you're not hitting things."

"So you were waiting for me."

Sheppard half-grinned. "Carson said he'll join. Probably."

"I'm hungry."

"You can bring a sandwich."

Unsure what else to say to get out of actually having to play golf with Sheppard, he said, "I have a thing."

"Oh really, a thing?"

He tried to come up with a list of potential 'things' but drew up nothing. No reports to write. Not like he filled them out anyway, nor would Sheppard believe him if that was his excuse. Teyla was outside the city, so he couldn't claim a something with her. He wasn't sure what Eva was doing since he hadn't seen her since mid-morning and it was officially late afternoon.

And he wasn't good at coming up with excuses.

"Ronon!"

He and Sheppard stopped in the hall, looking around for whoever had called his name. A few seconds later, Eva's head popped out from a doorway behind them. Even doing that, she managed to appear more like a predator hanging from a wall than a person casually leaning against it.

"Hey, Eva, have you ever played golf?" Sheppard asked. He swung the club again as if to emphasize the allure of the sport.

Eva's mouth clicked shut as she examined the club in Sheppard's hands critically, whatever she'd been about to say dying on her lips. Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, whether from trying to decipher what Sheppard was actually _doing_ with the instrument in his hands or because she knew that Sheppard knew she had never heard of such a sport and so didn't understand why he'd asked in the first place, he couldn't tell.

"I prefer not to hit things with excessively long, blunt instruments."

Ronon couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips, especially as Sheppard's mouth dropped open in mock offense.

"It's not just _hitting_," he explained, "It's _precision_ strikes against a ball to send it exactly where you want it to go."

"Why not just throw it, then?"

"Because throwing it requires less _skill_."

Eva eyed the club dubiously as Sheppard attempted to demonstrate with an invisible ball. Ronon stood back a few feet while Sheppard lined up an imaginary shot and swung. The image was only moderately spoiled by the fake applause Sheppeard made by cupping his hands around his mouth while bowing dramatically.

"You didn't actually hit a ball."

By the expression on Eva's face, he was mildly sure she'd just cracked a joke at Sheppard's expense.

"You're killing me. Ronon, help?"

He raised his hands up. "Don't look at me, I've never played golf."

Sheppard threw up his hands, barely missing striking the wall with the head of the club. Though he was more concerned about the lighting fixture above his head that'd come within half a foot of becoming rubble. A shower composed of glass was not on his list of enjoyable activities. Unless he'd caused the shower with his gun while taking down a wraith or five.

Sheppard appeared to give up on explaining golf to Eva at least, because he asked, "So what's this thing?"

"It's important."

Eva's attention had been grabbed by whoever was in the room with her, so he couldn't try to get out of golfing that way. She was in a fervent conversation with what sounded like Dr. Mckay, most likely working on whatever project he'd roped her into last week. Ever since Rodney learned she could read Lantean fluently, he'd been dogging her heels, wanting to assess the extent of her knowledge, and familiarize her with the grid. He'd been pretty unhappy when she didn't have the gene that would let her use Lantean devices. More so than she had. Which wasn't much at all.

"Oh really?"

He shifted on his feet, slight enough that most wouldn't have noticed it. "Yes."

"So what is it, then?"

Sheppard's eyes held his and he knew he wouldn't be getting out of it this time.

"Ronon, are you busy now?"

"What, you too?"

A way out presented itself and he grabbed it. Nodding his head at Eva, he said, "Her _first_."

Fortunately Sheppard missed the confused head tilt Eva supplied as she looked at him.

"If it's just Eva, why were you so cagey about it?"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Sheppard laughed. "Fine, you two kids have fun. Don't run yourselves to death or beat the crap out of each other too much."

After Sheppard departed, Eva slipped out of the doorway and stood next to him.

"So, what'd you actually want?" he asked her once he was sure Sheppard wouldn't be able to hear him.

She shrugged. "Rodney was driving me crazy in the lab. Saw you two walking by and thought it looked like the perfect opportunity to get away."

He shared an amused grin with her.

"Besides," she continued, "Looks like you needed rescuing, too."

"If we keep standing here, Mckay will get suspicious. You hungry?"

"_Yes_," she replied and started walking towards the mess. He fell in next to her, amused at the implication that Mckay had kept her there for hours, probably eating sandwiches he'd stowed away or even forgetting his own hunger in his exuberance to see what Eva knew.

-E-

**AN:** Oh hey, I'm alive! And it's been a _long_ time since I last posted an update and I really do feel bad, so thanks to everyone who stuck around and reviewed asking me to come back and continue this story! Life has been super hectic (but the good kind) and I lost my muse for this story for a bit, but now I'm back! I hope to get some regular updating in here now that I'm back on track with this story and where it's going, but I don't want to make promises I can't keep. I _can_ and _will_ tell you that it will definitely not be anywhere near as long as this update was. I'm hoping for weekly.

So again, thank you all of you for being super patient and I hope you still enjoy the story! :)


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